| Listen call me on the telephone
|
| Sorry love I’m not at home
|
| I’m out on the town, roamin'
|
| Leave a message after the tone
|
| And I’ll get back to you in the morning
|
| Oh yeah
|
| Everybody in this town wanna know me now
|
| Cause every honey in this town wanna hold me down
|
| Roll me round cause I’m brown like a blunt
|
| So put it in the sky and tell me what you want
|
| Lighter up li-lighter up
|
| Like it’s 1985 and we high as fuck
|
| Lighter up li-lighter up
|
| Like it’s 1985 and we high as fuck
|
| I kick of my shoes
|
| I keep the weed in my socks
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| I’m going 85 and I ain’t gonna stop
|
| Unless the beat drop
|
| And I see those cops
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| Tryin to pull me over cause I’m hot box, windows locked
|
| Stay bumping that cock rock
|
| In and out the carpool lane like a hot shot
|
| Drop top, I got it at the chop shop
|
| Mario the only one favor for that ganja
|
| Listen call me on the telephone
|
| Sorry love I’m not at home
|
| I’m out on the town, roamin'
|
| Leave a message after the tone
|
| And I’ll get back to you in the morning
|
| Oh yeah
|
| Yeah… yo
|
| I’m a breast man, face man, leg man, ass man
|
| Gentleman? |
| yes ma’am
|
| Ask them they my clientele
|
| And they eyes is red cause they high as hell
|
| Brain like baboon, body like gazelle
|
| Lady gazelle run fast as hell
|
| I’m the shit, ma, that’s the smell
|
| The next big thing, can’t you tell
|
| The phone ring, can’t pick it up
|
| Like moving too fast gotta live it up
|
| Gotta live it up, can’t trade a trans am for a pickup truck
|
| Yo I, work hard all day in the garden
|
| And I was starting to show for something
|
| Limousine that they show for something
|
| Drive me around with the music bumping
|
| Listen call me on the telephone
|
| Sorry love I’m not at home
|
| I’m out on the town, roamin'
|
| Leave a message after the tone
|
| And I’ll get back to you in the morning
|
| Oh yeah
|
| Listen call me on the telephone
|
| Sorry love I’m not at home
|
| I’m out on the town, roamin'
|
| Leave a message after the tone
|
| And I’ll get back to you in the morning
|
| Oh yeah
|
| Mmm… fuck
|
| Fuck yeah, yeah I’m high
|
| How you think a brother man s’posed to survive
|
| Take five, matter fact take a drive
|
| And think about life while you still got time
|
| Smoke a little weed, drop a couple rhymes
|
| Make a couple dollars to save a couple dimes
|
| Draw a couple lines on some paper making sign
|
| Hang it on my dressing room door, it’s signed
|
| Listen call me on the telephone
|
| Sorry love I’m not at home
|
| I’m out on the town, roamin'
|
| Leave a message after the tone
|
| And I’ll get back to you in the morning
|
| Oh yeah
|
| Everybody in this town wanna know me now
|
| Cause every honey in this town wanna hold me down
|
| Roll me round cause I’m brown like a blunt
|
| So put it in the sky and tell me what you want
|
| Lighter up li-lighter up
|
| Like it’s 1985 and we high as fuck
|
| Lighter up li-lighter up
|
| Like it’s 1985 and we high as fuck
|
| Yo, I kick off my shoes. |