Lyrics
«Why do you keep smoking that shit? Why will you keep smoking that shit?
Why??? Why??? Why do you keep smoking that shit?»
Aight, check it out yo, check it out yo
I’mma flip yo, check it out — bust it I connect to spots like connect-the-dots
From the Lower East Side, to way up top
I got a map too, express on the 6, I found you
Where they got the raw dog smoke at Soundview
Now, two nicks damnit, do you understand?
Nuff respect to the dread man or I’mma dead man
I ain’t no fake man for the red hand
It’s just my Walkman with instructions from Redman
Whomever I step to, remove the Phillie filter
Cause I used to know this bitch and it killed her (that bitch is dead)
I’m smokin that shit, cause I got a thousand jokes
Like puttin your moms in the yoke cause she broke some choke
Bitch, you’re blowin up the spot, be out
Yo either get some dough, or get the fuck down South
With your bitch-ass son, and tell him throw up his dukes
So I can spend his lunch loot at noop noop
Check it I do the hip, hop, the hibby, the hibby dibby
Kurious the too-fly magician, never givin
These niggas a piece of my pie, cause yo my shit is fat
Just like my pockets your girl’s titties is flat
So when the bitch slid in correct with the funk from the big bra
I kindly reply, with a smile, aiyyo chill hooooot damn
Uh uh uh, I’m so sorry uhh
Eat your tits, cause them shits is from Somalia
Check it out, on the one to the two
It’s some shit from the zoo, it’s the C.M. crew
Now from the cocks with the blocks on the street or the goat
With the 40, the Glocks, the Phillie and the smoke
Just like George Bush is the type to drop bombs
Jorge Kurious will smoke scarm wit’cha moms
Throw a 50 yard pass, with a afro pick
To Steve, Earthquake, stop smokin that shit
I keep my gun out my holster, I’m wanted on the poster
Cause I shot the sheriff who knocked the cherry off my shoulder
He tried to get cute, so Earthquake, had to erase him
And place him, in America’s Top Ten, like Casey Kasem
I tracked him, an actor, with no sense of humor
If you heard I fell off nigga, it’s only just a rumor
So step the fuck back, 'fore you get your shit cracked
I had to think up a plan, so now I’m fat like that
280 pounds of pure funk, and no junk
I snatch a ho bitch up, just like Dave, did The Chipmunks
Kid I’m rough tough, strong enough to call your bluff
Handcuff your wife up, while your bitch, give me a buff
I do run run run, I do run the MC’s
The king of rap, you don’t believe me? Believe these!
Def rhymes on wax, don’t call me, send a fax
I slam hard like Anthrax, so turn it up to the max
STOP! You’re pinchin my nerves, with rap slurs
I do my best herb, now it’s time to get served
So suck my dick, I don’t smoke that shit
I don’t want this shit, so you flip the script
You know I’m on that shit — STOP SMOKIN THAT SHIT
You know I’m on that shit — STOP SMOKIN THAT SHIT
I’m always always on that shit — STOP SMOKIN THAT SHIT
Yeah I’m on that shit — STOP SMOKIN THAT SHIT
Stop smokin that shit, 'fore you get killed
You know the flavor my man, so just chill
Now hold your head up and hold your head high
Stop smokin the dust, you just might die
Relax your mainframe, the bolder gets paid
And you won’t have no motherfuckin
As you know, I’m on the microphone to make you all know
That shit that you smoke will make you mad broke
I don’t give a fuck about you and your crew
I’m not too love sick, drink that brew I’m a Nancy Drew
I don’t solve mysteries, never wearin Lees
I got the motherfuckin S.I. to be, where it seed
So pack up, my man I went out of breath
I got asthma on the side, take it on to the left
So stop smokin that shit my man
And I’m out, see ya later, so kick the can
I drink Colt 45 and talk in mad jive
You know I stay alive, my niggas stay alive
Easy on the smoke, I don’t really feel like tokin
I gotta save some breath for this bitch I be strokin
Everyday I make a nigga get right
Jealous-ass, pussy-ass nigga can’t fight
I’m in my new disguise, feedin pigeons
Ducks, any bird, and bond’s my word (word is bond)
I make gadgets, illy, ill toys that kill
Sleep on me, you’ll get a sleepin pill
Pin that nigga, down right on the mat (bang!)
If you ain’t my nigga, don’t reach for no gat
Slap, right to the head
I’m blitzed to whip that ass, muerte style, dead
Y’knahmsayin?
SMOKIN THAT SHIT
Yeah, c’mon — SMOKIN THAT SHIT
You see a nigga you know — SMOKIN THAT SHIT
My man you’re cold — SMOKIN THAT SHIT
Kurious Jorge I know you’re not — SMOKIN THAT SHIT
Zev Love what you doin? SMOKIN THAT SHIT
Stop SMOKIN THAT SHIT, stop SMOKIN THAT SHIT
Hahaha, smokin that motherfuckin shit!
Word up, yeah yeah, smokin that shit
Smokin that motherfuckin shit, you’re motherfuckin right
Put the fuckin pipe down!