I want more of that sauce.Oh, yeah.And this one out for everybody.I mean to everybody from the H-Town to the A-Town and worldwide.So get your lighters and drink.And I tell you what, * up, * up.It's screwed up if anybody try to blow my high.You know what I'ma tell them?* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.I'm better than I've ever felt before.I'm intoxicated but maintaining self-control.I took a swig.I had a jug.Chug a lug.I'm loud and clear.I had some bud.I lit it up and it disappeared.Cause my magic tricks are so fabulous.This *'s hazardous.Got amateurs smoking cannabis.If you mad at this.Damn it then * you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.I'm sick of it.I'm down.I'm down.Time to split the blunt and break it up.Three with motion.Purple potion.Shake it.Shake it up.I tried to kick the habit.But it keep calling me abracadabra.Here's the magic trick.I smoked up all the weed.Zag zags and golden raps.I'm out.My mind gone.Drugs don't affect my work.I still grind grind on.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.I'm screwed up.I'm leaning like the tower of peas at a syrup squeezer.Come close to my stash and get treated as if I'm Ebeneezer.I'm throwed, blowed.Matter of fact, let's call this the thrower potion.I'm screwed up.So no wonder.No wonder things are in slow motion.The half the habit can't kick the habit.I've tried to shake it.The drug experiment stage.If it gets naked, then * you.You.You.* you.You.You.* you.* you.* you.* you.I'm screwed up, screwed up, screwed up, Texas.We drive reckless and they appeal off.You ain't had * until you smoked sweet Jack and Jack Frost.Hit it twice.But don't cough.Don't cough.You gotta take it, man.If it's a record for smoking, I'll break it, break it, man.Me and Luda puffin' Buddha.We in the black cougar on zap.Judas, you try to jack.***, ***.Rubus.You.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.I'm screwed up.How can I say it plain that I'm off that Mary Jane?And if it's true what they say, then I don't know how many cells is left in my fuckin' brain.But I'ma keep on writin', enlightin' minds of these hungry rappers.And tell the hood that I've hired some fire and firecrackers.On the 4th of July, open your eyes, I'm jokin', stupid.I love all races, but if you hatin' sick music, then * you.* you.* you.You.You.* you.You.You.* you.* you.* you.* you.* you.I'm off substances, that's control, that's how this story goesI popped the cap, broke the ice, a little broke, unbroke the moldI'm so cold, I think I see dead people, nahThat's just my homies passed out in the regalBelieve it, the potency is so strong, if you notice meI'm calm, cool, and collected, and if you disrespected, then* you, * you, * you, * you, * you, * you, * you, * youWe doing this for them players, it's true, true musicWe don't pass out after eight months, because we used toMe and Chris like teaching chomps, so hurry, bring out the weed in the boneCause this * ain't great, ain't treesWe don't pass out after eight months, because we used toWe gotta leave it alone, until my homies screwYou know I gotta hold it down, and if they want itThen they gotta come and take the crown* you, * you, * you, * you, * you, * you