Real ill shit (second vers)
I can't make hits without biting/ just a one hit wonda'/
I shit without wiping/ and I'm smuggling ganja/
I've got weed that'll take ya straight to da phiend wonderland/
Damn! That was my last pair of clean under where/
Smoka's blazing/ holdin' paper/ man I pay with rizzla/
Leaving da hole place a mess just like my baby sista/
I be toaking afgan/ getting stoned like Aslan/
When it comes to pills I'm popping mow' then Pacman/
Don't think that I'm depressed over some broken marrige/
I swipe drugs at night clubs with Nicole and Paris/
Ya girl ain't faking orgasm's shes praing for fuck's sake/
I mothafuck them rapists and tie their wrists with duck tape/
Make me paint yall da picture, ya getting sprayed like graff writers/
That can't aim straight coz their ass got arthritus/
I'm rocking only by talking, I'm hip and hopping/
Put my Johnsson in ya children's christmas stockings/
By: Psyclone of da Verbal Terraristz (VT)
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