Sicilian Spit
08-30-07, 02:28 AM
Ima put ya'll up on some Bay game right quick.
Lemme give you a run through how we do it in the Bay
Them trees part of our culture, sticky green around my way
So many purple days that my minds a purple haze
See purple rays of light when I set the purp ablaze
And purp never betrays its that guaranteed killa
I'll always cough a bill up, worth all of my scrilla (money)
All of my luchi (money), even all of my buku (money)
Hit the coochie while you high and feel the pleasure run through you
Voodoo magic when I'm rollin the blunt
But **** rollin poke the wood out and lets call it a trump
But if I do twist I manufacture Louisville Sluggers (fat blunts)
Put the pine tar (hash oil) on the handle, spread it like butter
Cut up the hash rock and sprinkle it in
A fat bowl and as you light it watch it twinkle wit gems
Sprinkle the stems in a little bowl too
We smoke up every last crumb me and my whole crew
And them little orange hairs? Thats them Pippy Longstockings
Hit the bong like a hippy, continue on talking
While you hold the smoke in, don't be scared of chokin
The sign of a good hit, now ya cherry's broken
We puffin on that skunk every day in the Bay
Man **** gettin crunk we gettin hyphy where I stay
Take ya wifey where I lay and that's where she'll remain
Cuz Barney (purple weed) and trainwreck feel good on her brain
In the Bay we roll baseball bats (fat blunts)
Major hittas stay kitted fitted baseball hats
Go dumb crunch numbers like baseball stats
Grab cheeks of these freak like baseball pats
Baseheads, crackheads, here we got it all
Spray lead, crack heads, then you gotta crawl
Make dudes bleed Heinz sometimes you gotta brawl
Stay winin dinin hoes always shinin gotta ball
To get the kitty, this ***** is pretty
But I don't need a girl, I'm not Mister Diddy
Ima twist her titty, then hit the city
Tell my crew what I did I'll never bytch a pity
I mean pity a bytch, or a pitiful snitch
Sittin high in a scraper like I'm hittin a switch
Never sit in my niche wit complacency
But understand man the Bay is still the place to be
We puffin on that skunk every day in the Bay
Man **** gettin crunk we gettin hyphy where I stay
Take ya wifey where I lay and that's where she'll remain
Cuz Barney (purple weed) and trainwreck feel good on her brain
Who want it wit me? Ima claim the throne of this forum until someone challenges me.
Lemme give you a run through how we do it in the Bay
Them trees part of our culture, sticky green around my way
So many purple days that my minds a purple haze
See purple rays of light when I set the purp ablaze
And purp never betrays its that guaranteed killa
I'll always cough a bill up, worth all of my scrilla (money)
All of my luchi (money), even all of my buku (money)
Hit the coochie while you high and feel the pleasure run through you
Voodoo magic when I'm rollin the blunt
But **** rollin poke the wood out and lets call it a trump
But if I do twist I manufacture Louisville Sluggers (fat blunts)
Put the pine tar (hash oil) on the handle, spread it like butter
Cut up the hash rock and sprinkle it in
A fat bowl and as you light it watch it twinkle wit gems
Sprinkle the stems in a little bowl too
We smoke up every last crumb me and my whole crew
And them little orange hairs? Thats them Pippy Longstockings
Hit the bong like a hippy, continue on talking
While you hold the smoke in, don't be scared of chokin
The sign of a good hit, now ya cherry's broken
We puffin on that skunk every day in the Bay
Man **** gettin crunk we gettin hyphy where I stay
Take ya wifey where I lay and that's where she'll remain
Cuz Barney (purple weed) and trainwreck feel good on her brain
In the Bay we roll baseball bats (fat blunts)
Major hittas stay kitted fitted baseball hats
Go dumb crunch numbers like baseball stats
Grab cheeks of these freak like baseball pats
Baseheads, crackheads, here we got it all
Spray lead, crack heads, then you gotta crawl
Make dudes bleed Heinz sometimes you gotta brawl
Stay winin dinin hoes always shinin gotta ball
To get the kitty, this ***** is pretty
But I don't need a girl, I'm not Mister Diddy
Ima twist her titty, then hit the city
Tell my crew what I did I'll never bytch a pity
I mean pity a bytch, or a pitiful snitch
Sittin high in a scraper like I'm hittin a switch
Never sit in my niche wit complacency
But understand man the Bay is still the place to be
We puffin on that skunk every day in the Bay
Man **** gettin crunk we gettin hyphy where I stay
Take ya wifey where I lay and that's where she'll remain
Cuz Barney (purple weed) and trainwreck feel good on her brain
Who want it wit me? Ima claim the throne of this forum until someone challenges me.