Smokin' That S*@%! - KMD

«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?

Sike!

Nuff respect to the dread man or I’mma dead man

I ain’t no Fed 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, yo)

I’m smokin' that shit, 'cause I got a thousand jokes

Like puttin' your moms in a 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 her big bra

I kindly reply, with a smile, «Aiyyo chill, hooooot damn»

Uh, uh, uh, I’m so sorry, umm

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.

(Crewwwww!)

Not from the cocks but the blocks on the street or the goat

With the 40s, the Glocks, the Philly and the smoke

Just like George Bush is the type to drop bombs

Jorge Kurious will smoke skunk 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 and knocked the chip 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 some Digable Planets, 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 let 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 lovesick, 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 fright

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!