Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Keith Murray
Keith Murray
Performer
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Keith Murray
Keith Murray
Composer
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Composer
Harry Wayne Casey
Harry Wayne Casey
Composer
Rick Finch
Rick Finch
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Producer
Bob Fudjinski
Bob Fudjinski
Mixing Engineer
Dave Greenberg
Dave Greenberg
Recording Engineer
Mike Hogan
Mike Hogan
Assistant Engineer

Lyrics

Uh-huh
Yeah
One two, one two
Fire up, fire up this smoke
Smokin' blunts
Mad Dog 2020 (fire up, fire up this smoke)
We gonna get funky
I grab the 40 rip off the skirt
Guzzle it, grab the mic and come out the woodworks
When shit stick and no time to think
Keith Murray gets busy off a Basic Instinct
I puff a L and drink some liquor
Sit down and write a jam that receive the muhfuckin' sticker
As God as my witness, with the sickness
Of a cannibalist cannibus I floats like a cumulus
My perpetual rebel intellectual
Won't catch a bad experience, with hallucinogenic either
I float simply with the canibus setiva
As my speech fall deep as in the scriptures
And graphic opponents like Picasso paint in pictures
If my eyes ain't red, it's all in my head
Once said by a Ph.D. med
Legalize and I'll advertise, 'cause
Yeah (I get lifted)
Roll the Phillie and get (high, high)
Roll the ziggy and get (high, high)
I get lifted
Roll the Phillie and get (high, high)
Roll the ziggy and get (fire up this funk, fire up this funk)
This the real deal not a publicity stunt
I gets high like if the man in the movie puffin' blunts
But verily barely merrily is it dope or the dream
Step into my chain izm intervene the smokescreen
I captivate it then cultivate it, jealous of my desire
Smoke it down to the fire, anything to get a little higher
I've been to college but to be truthfully frank
Weed is knowledge, 'cause it makes me think
I pick anatomy and hem reality like Jah
Rastas read the bible, after puffin sensimillia
And the seeds it gets me high to fly, I ain't bullshittin'
And you can ask Bill Clinton, he could verify that
Yeah (I get lifted)
Roll a Phillie and get (high, high)
Roll a ziggy and get (fire up this funk)
Yeah (I get lifted)
Roll a Phillie and get (high, high)
Roll the ziggy and get (fire up this funk, fire up this funk)
Step into this intersection and take this rap
I got a vicious plot, but first take me by the weed spot
I do this for my **** locked down runnin' capers
Smokin' herb, and the bible papers (word)
But how does it feel when you got no fire?
And kyant pass fi dutchie pon de leffhand side
What the fuck? Who the fuck wanna fuck
With the six shot shooter, I murder you over buddha
What I discuss'll bust a rhyme style nucleus
And roast them ghostes, puffin hocus-pocus
So kid, pass that bomb trom word bond
So I can toke it with more wins than a python
Different strokes for different folks
He like the chocolate thai
You like to float with the green skunky smoke
Roll up a fat one and pass it around
Laid back hypnotized to the funky sound, 'cause
Yeah (I get lifted)
Roll a Phillie and get (high, high)
Roll a ziggy and get (fire up this funk)
Yeah (I get lifted)
Puff a Phillie and get
Puff a ziggy and get (fire up this funk, fire up this funk)
Yeah (I get lifted)
Roll a Phillie and get (high, high)
Roll a ziggy and get (fire up this funk)
Yeah (I get lifted)
(High, high)
(Fire up this funk, fire up this funk)
Yo man, what's that guy's name, the Green Eyed Bandit?
He worked with Redman, Redman, whatever the fuck his name is
Written by: Erick Sermon, Harry Wayne Casey, James A. Johnson, Keith Murray, Rick Finch
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