S-P-I-C-E about to hit it and crawl
Pull up the vega make it fat nigga got the crush nasty for a playa
Purple Haze got me hittin the switches and rollin bats up
With some niggaz who don't want to put the gats up
I'm high til I kick the bucket
Fuck it, throw some blunts on my coffin and I'll
smoke it with the dead niggas
Light it up like the Fourth of July
Type of chronic make a dead nigga wake up high
I get tired and ? pussy
And niggaz know I got to smoke about half ounce, before I flow
It ain't no ? in my zig-zag, I roll my blunt
There ain't no weed in the studio, we on a hunt
To get the sticky ass green shit, shut em down
You can find a little chron' spot in every town
Nigga sell a twenty ten sacks up on the block
Break the doobies in the ashtray down to roll a chopper
I'm addicted to the THC, gettin fucked up
Leave your doobies around they gettin sucked up
Lungs like a motherfuckin vacuum cleaner
Mobbin on the fine Betty's smokin out the Beamer
Just call me Dr. Bomb from the Bay
Hit ya in the chest with the chron like an A.K.
Kick back lay back and throw them feet up
Sometimes I wanna roll, a whole fuckin tree up
I break it down, halves and O's
Smoking mold in a broke down sixty-four
And ain't no nigga in the world that can outsmoke me
The muthafuckin chronic addict S-P-I-C-E
Bill Clinton hit the chronic and he didn't inhale
But I'm gonna cough a fuckin lung up for niggaz in jail
Chorus 4X
Smokin pot before twelve, ain't no secret to my homies
Step the fuck in your face with the smell of chronic on me
It