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I feel like dancing
I feel like dancing

I smell something in the air thats making me (high)
I said I smell something in the air thats making me high

Ok here we go, do-re-mi-fa-so, fa so la ti da so
Lyrical Rosco, give back the Tabasco.
You mother fuckers must just not know the tic-tock song
Time to show you the most kick ass flow in the cosmos
Picasso with a pick axe a sick asshole
Tic tac toe frozen six pack, with exacto, knives,
Strangling wives with big lasso.
Few bags of the grass, zig zags, I'm with the Doc so
You know how that go, skull and the crossbones
This is poison, the boys and girls who do not know
You do not want to try this at home my novato (novice).
This is neither the time nor the place to get macho.
So crack a six pack, sit back with some nachos
Maybe some popcorn, and watch the show and just rock slow
It's not what you expected, nor what you thought so,
About time to you wake the fuck up smell the pot smoke


It must be the Ganja
It's the marijuana
Thats creeping up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Henney that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

It must be the Ganja
It's the marijuana
What's creeping up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Henney that has gotten in me
Whatever's got into me I don't mind


Your dreams are getting fulfilled, you are literally getting the chills
Spitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pill
You're submitting to skill, sitting still,
I'm admitting, I'm beginning to feel like I don't think anyone's real.
Faced with a dilemma, I can be Dali Llama and become a bin gramma a step beyond a Jeffrey Dahmer
Please don't upset me mama, you lookin sexy mama,
Don't know if it's the lala or the rum and Pepsi mama
Don't want to end up inside my refrigerator freezer,
Be used as extra topping the next time I make a pizza
How many people you know can name every serial killer who ever existed in a row,
Put em in chronological order beginning with Jack the Ripper,
Name the time and place from the body the bag the zipper,
Location of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped,
The trunk that they were stuffed in, the model the make the plate
and which model which lake they found her in,
and how they attacked the victim,
Say which murder weapon was used to do what and which one,
which knife and which gun, what kid, what wife, and which nun?,
Don't stop I like this it's fun, the fuckin night's just begun.


It must be the ganja
It's the marijuana
That's creeping up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Henney that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

It must be the Ganja
It's the marijuana
What's creeping up on me while I'm so high.
Maybe it's the Henney that has gotten in me
Whatever's got into me I don't mind


When I'm behind a mic dynamite is what its kinda like,
Get stuck with the same stick that you're trying to light.
Behind the boards is Dre, legends are made this way
Isn't it safe to say, this is the way it should be?
Maybe you need some lyric syrup serum for your symptoms.
Here's a dosage of the antidote now you give him some,
He can give her some, she can give them some.
Get behind a lynn drum, make up a beat and kill the sucka syndrome.
You're spinning drama when it comes to lyrics and penning some,
Starting from scratch and then ending up at the end enough
Capable of bringing a Pulitzer, (strong believe a bullet's a ?)
Titanium cranium that's full of, surprises
When the smoke rises right before your very own eyes
You stare into your stereos high
Good evening, this ain't even a weed thing,
I ain't even smoke anything , I ain't even drink anything

It must be the ganja
It's the marijuana
That's creeping up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Henney that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

It must be the Ganja
It's the marijuana
That's creeping up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Henney that has gotten in me
whatever's got into me I don't mind