| Back in the spot
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| Wild Child
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| My man is Soul Father Rascoe
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| Man, I don’t know,
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| This fuck
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| Take you on another journey
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| From the left coast
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| For the mind, for the love
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| For 'em T’s who don’t have to smoke
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| Weed, you’re number one
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| Bounce to this cut, we bound to erupt
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| Wild Child, Rascoe, and my man Disrupt
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| Treat 'em C’s like weak, grab the bong
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| Step up and straight smoke 'em
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| While my fella men be tellin' 'em that
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| My adrenaline is more potent
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| Nobody could test another professor
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| While I’m rocking, things could get ugly
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| Open his mouth when he’s not using his bong
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| And then fill it with puddy!
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| See, your definition of weed is not
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| My definition of weed
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| These days we progress to a higher state
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| Of manifest if we All come together to see our pip mark grady
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| We cool?
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| Just to see through, your blood and mistake
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| Might come out that leap through
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| Your conscious state of being
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| Are you afraid of being so?
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| While me and the Cali cats
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| Enhance the art of MC-ing
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| Try and think! |
| When your definition
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| Of weed defines the right weed
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| You weak MC’s enhance father dank
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| We (ed)earth it and make swell while
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| You’re left farther shooting the Glock
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| When you’re smoking for the thought of rappin'
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| Difficult that couldn’t cut
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| Or disrespecting Tenant, while Wild Child comes to destruct
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| Got my man Soul Father, Roscoe on the disrupt
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| (Interlude)
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| Aye, what’s up, aye, I heard you had a little
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| Writers block. |
| You know what I’m saying?
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| I got something for that, cause I can get you high
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| I will smoke it up after this creep disruptor
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| Hell, lyrics and weed, laced with awesome nigga places
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| I gotta leave your mouth to bleed and spin the fould (?)
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| I smoke all this credit (???)
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| Lyrically enhanced, and mental naturally
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| Kill you like a cereal, the mash, y’all niggas must be criminal
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| Minerals swervin', windows fall and burnin' |