Released on September 21, 1999

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[Guru]

Turn it up..


[DJ Premier scratches]

"Pack ya whole crew"

"I bring it to ya live" "One hundred percent"

"I bring it to ya live" "Pack ya whole crew"

"I bring it to ya live"


[Verse One: Guru]

Yo, excuse you for not knowing, we always been spot blowing

You kick rhymes, but you're not flowing

You think you shine, you're not glowing

Where we're headed you're NOT going

Tell your girl she needs to stop hoeing

Heard she got caught showing, her naked ass for no cash

Loves to blow dick, word to Rick, she's low-class

But getting back to you, you ain't macking, dude

With ya cellophane game, you can catch a smack too

With ya fake eye smug, you ain't a thug, fuck ya attitude

Best show the Guru and his fam some gratitude

You mad at me, I'm mad at you

You hate on me, I laugh at you

I'm warning, dog, on it, tell my homeboys to clap at you

Niggas tried to murder me for a wrist watch

Rap shit ain't no comedy, word to Chris Rock

Niggas'll stair like queers for years

'Cause when I spit tight, you get rocked

Word to Jimi Hendrix, it's weed scented


[Hook: Party Arty]

It's so dirty they can't believe that we did it

It's weed scented, get the dutch and put some trees in it

Pack a shorty at the bar then leave with it

Spit a verse, pass the mic..


[Verse Two: O.C.]

Yo, let me hit it

I got the beat like a Dutch, fill it with something sticky

Perceed getting bend at the same time getting busy

Chocolate flows, spark the dro, Mary Jane make the eyes low

Cheech and Chong, hit the bong, many colors 'spond with phenomenon

Shit is G.D.: A.G., Party and D-Flow the don

Nigga, it's on, we 'bout to form, in the form of a storm

It's big toys rock laciers and pop Dom

Dough or die, drink Henri, puff on Tie

I'm too pulled for some heads like dust mixed with lye

O.C., I'll be M.V.P. so envy me

This verse here is better than ya whole CD

Respond to it, anybody I'm begging, y'all could do it

I smash any race or creed that wanna get stupid

Fuck y'all think this is, this ain't no game

It goes without saying, niggas KNOW my name


[Hook: Party Arty]

Uhh, it's so dirty they can't believe that we did it

It's weed scented, get the dutch and put some trees in it

Pack a shorty at the bar then leave with it

Spit a verse, pass the mic..


[Verse Three: A.G.]

..And let me hit it!

It's A.G., still breathing, still in here eating

Deal on the table, millionaires by the weekend

Play-Doh with my whip, you watch, like Seiko when I kick

Like Kaydo, and stay low when I spit

No whip? Hit the train

No hits? You get the blame

Gotta go, bitch, sucking no dick, you get the same

I get dirty in the Benz Galendo wagon

Stack ends heavy with friends, and we packing

Get rid of me, you gotta send me packing

I'mma empty to the last one, and each line is heavy as the last one

I can't believe that wack shit is hot to them

The truck stop ya oxygen, spit twenty I spot ya ten

Got most askin how they last this long

Gotta show you on the video to see where ya ass went wrong

Raw and 'em, bet Flex and Clue and 'em blast this song

Roll the ganja up, light it and pass it along

It's A.G. and sheisty niggas ain't permitted around me

I don't even like these niggas haters get from around me

Tracks is fat, soon as I hear this said I'mma murder this

Chick try to flow with thise, I'mma hurt the bitch

Dump the body in Malali like Sam Berkowitz

For one fifty-fifth in Courtland, offic' in Boston, we spit it often


[Hook: Party Arty]

Uhh, it's so dirty they can't believe that we did it

It's weed scented, get the dutch and put some trees in it

Pack a shorty at the bar then leave with it

Spit a verse, pass the mic..


[Guru]

.. And let ME hit it..