Luyện nghe bài hát It Must Be The Ganja

Yea, (oh, oh), yea yea, oh

I like dancing
I feel like

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

ok here we go, do-re-mi-fa-so, I'm so so
lyrical flow, give back the tobasco
you mother fuckers know the tic tac songs
time to show you the mo kick ass in the cosmos
Picasso with a axe a sick asshole
she tac toe frozen six pack with
knives, wives with pig lasso
few of the the grass, zig zags, im with the doc so
you how that go, skull and the crossbones
is poison, the boys and girls who do not know
you do not want to try at home my novato (novice)
this is the time or the place to get macho
so crack a six pack, sit with some nachos
maybe popcorn, and watch the show and just rock slow
not what you expected, tho what you thought though
bout time to you wake the fuck up the pot smoke

it be the ganja
the marijuana
that's creepin me why I'm so high
maybe it's the that has gotten in me
whatever's got into me I don't

it be the ganja
it's the
that's creepin upon me why I'm so
it's the hinde that has gotten in me
whatever's got me I don't mind

your of getting the pill, you are literally getting the drill
spitting at will, me and Dre have finished splitting a pill
submitting to skill, sitting still, I'm admitting, I'm beginning to feel
like I don't think real,
faced with a dilemma, I can be Dali Llama and become a bin gramma a step beyond a Dahmer
please don't upset me mama, you sexy mama,
don't know if this the lala or the rum and mama
don't want to end up inside my freezer,
be used as topping the next time I make a pizza
how many people you know can name every killer who ever existed in a row,
put em in chronological order beginning with the Ripper,
name the and place from the body the bag the zipper,
location of the where the body was dragged and then dumped,
the that they were stuffed in, the model the make the plate
and which motel lake they found her in,
and how they the victim,
say which murder weapon was used to do and which one,
which it was done, what kid would write there was none,
so sloppy this it's fun, the fuckin ecstasy goes

it be the ganja
the marijuana
that's creepin me why I'm so high
it's the hinde that has gotten in me
whatever's got me I don't mind

it must be the
it's the
that's upon me why I'm so high
maybe the hinde that has gotten in me
got into me I don't mind

when I'm behind a mic dynamite is what its like
get stuck that same stick that you're trying to light
the boards is Dre, legends are made this way
isn't it safe to say, is the way it should be?
maybe you need some lyric syrup sign for symptoms
heres a dosage of the antidote now you him some,
he can her some, she can give him some
get behind a lynn drum, make up a and kill the sucka syndrome
you're spitting drama when it comes to lyrics and I'm
starting from scratch and ending up at the end ending up
of bringing a bullets a stillunbelievable bullets a
titanium brain thats of, surprises
the smoke rises right before your very own eyes
you stare your stereos eyes
evening, this isnt't even a weed thing,
I didn't smoke anything , I didn't even drink anything

it be the ganja
it's the
that's creepin upon me why I'm so
maybe it's the that has gotten in me
whatever's got me I don't mind

it be the ganja
it's the
creepin upon me why I'm so high
maybe it's the hinde has gotten in me
whatever's got me I don't mind