Roll it Up, Light it Up, Smoke it Up — текст песни (Cypress Hill)

(*guy toking up*)
Fuckin buddha comin at`cha live
Direct with the biggest, fattest joint
Comin in with indo flavors
Fuckin buddha comin at`cha like this
`95

[B-Real]
It`s, Friday mornin, where the weed at?
Let me dip into my pocket for my fat weed sack
Cause I wanna get high like a plane
in the sky, with the indo cloud in my brain
Where the fuck are my zig-zags and my lighters?
So I can roll it and set it on fire
Damn, I wish I had scissors cause the shit is so sticky
that it`s gettin on my fuckin fingers
But it`s smokeable, double tokeable
I got the one-hitter quitter bombay shit that`s tokeable
I wanna do a joint venture
Let me make sure there ain`t no lump in the god damn center
Impregnated lookin joint, fuck it
I can smoke it and I still get faded

[Chorus: repeat 4X]
Roll it up, light it up, smoke it up
Inhale, exhale

I`m the freaker, the one freaks the funk {*repeat scratch 4X*}

[B-Real] + (Sen Dog)
(East Coast hittin that blunt), West Coast hittin that honeydip
Marijuana joint, then I want another hit
Roll it up, (light it up), smoke it up
I wanna stimulate my mind (so I toke it up)
Can I get a hit? (Can I get a hooh!?)
Gimme that fat bag of weed and the brew
so I can get faded, elevated
Smoke the joint down to a roach then I ate it
I stand true to the yesca, mota
as I keep runnin from the Chota
Gimme dat weed fool and ya zig-zags
(Puto don`t be holdin out on the big bag)

[Chorus]

I`m the freaker, the one freaks the funk {*repeat to fade*}