| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| My name is Kid Vishis and I provide for the smokers
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| For the soldiers that only smoke weed that’ll choke ya
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| Get that Indica into ya, it’s gon' feel euphoric
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| Couple puffs of this stuff, you gon' feel you orbit
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| I’m from an era where you hear killing burials happen
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| You from the era when the only killing you seen
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| Was a little nigga named Terry, dancing goofy shit
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| From your stereo blaster, wifing up groupies
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| Claiming a gang, when you ain’t banging a thang
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| Giving a thought at STD is the only time you clapping a ratchet
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| I roll a blunt, and get the masses to match it
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| Imagine that, use the world as an ashtray, I’m ashin' that, after I rap
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| My son say: «I got a girlfriend», good job son
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| My daughter say: «I got a boyfriend», I load a shotgun
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| I’m not one for you young, dumb, and full of cum niggas
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| I come with a drum, spittin' for my little girls innocence
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| With ignorance, that’s how I’m livin'
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| I’m feelin' it, cool
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| And so would you, if you abide by the rules
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| And my children are unborn, this is a message to the future
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| Tell 'em to come for 'em, 'fore I shoot ya
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and try to get your mind right
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| I’m out here tryin' to get the kinda cake that lawyers make
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| Bar for bar, I’m harder than the testing lawyers take
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| The game’s a waste and It’s full of these disloyal fakes
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| Say they a riot, but you gon' find out til' it’s too late
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| I’m tryin' live a life of happiness, fuck all this trashy shit
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| Give me some flashy shit, 'fore I get scrappy
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| Slap happy, rap nasty
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| You niggas know you don’t want it with me bruh
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| Act like I ain’t even worth a feature?
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| Master from the streets, I’m a con creature
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| Here to defeat ya, meet the reaper, it’s ya teacher
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| I’m the doctor and I order you to smoke some reefer, toke some cheeba
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| Then go to sleep, but when you wake you gon' call like: «Vish, I need ya»
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| And you know what I’m gon' tell you?
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| Smoke some fuckin' dope, and get your mind right |