SIGNALS - Intellectual

[Intro: Alan Watts]

A person who thinks all the time has nothing to think about except thoughts. So, he loses touch with reality and lives in a world of illusions

Oh my god, I'm out of blunts, I see some niggas hittin’ that funk

One point five's up in my pocket, now you know, I gotta' drop it

Take a pull from a junt, even though it’s on fire

Mad coke and a blunt, mane, I think, I'm gonna die

Smokin' light green every day, Z-Dogg and the A.K

Big Hill, he's got the fry, mane, I'm finna' get high

Kick my head to the back, blow a gun to my nose

Let it flow to my brain, 'cause I'm goin’ insane

I’m a street type nigga

You know my kind, with that long Jheri Curl

Player to my heart cause I can't stick with one girl

Gotta sell dope, cause a nigga’s unеmployed

If trouble is something that I just can't avoid

Nеver step outside without the pump

I like to roll in style, so my fleetwood stays crunk

With my pants sagging so my underwear can show

Braids in my hair, so my Jheri Curl can grow

Smoke some, blow some, choke some

I said, damn, I ran outta phillie blunts

I gotta sit back and roll me some fat mack junts

Because them tops they burn too fuckin' fast

Thats why I smoke them blunts, because that shit's gon’ last

We used to smoke Swisher Sweets, then we moved to Phillies

But now, we smoke them [?], 'cause that shit is in me

Them big boy blunts they better than the fuckin' papers

Because we fill it up with weed, make it last till later

Smoke one, then choke one, but what, if you ain't got one of them NyQuil-Blunts, full of that skunk?

I'm ridin' down the streets, the [?] get them Tampa Sweets

Me and Taxx smokin' that ink and drinkin' that Bumpyface

Fuck them coppers, fuck them haters, they can't fade us

We cuttin' they throat with razors, [?] with some real niggas in Frayser

If we come to kickin' in doors and layin' you snakes to the floor

Smoke one, then choke one, Big Hill want more