よみ：ますと びー ざ がんじゃ
Must Be The Ganja 歌詞
友情
感動
恋愛
元気
結果
- 文字サイズ
- ふりがな
- ダークモード
Intro
I feel like dancing, I feel like dancing
I smell something in the air that's making me high
I said I smell something in the air that's making me high
Verse 1
(Ok here we go) do-re-me-fa-so-fa-so-la-ti-da-so
lyrical Roscoe kick back a Tabasco
you motherfuckers must just not know the tic-toc so
time to show you the most kick-ass flow in the cosmos
Picasso with a pick-axe a sick asshole
tic-tac-toe 'cross your six-pack with X-acto
knives, stranglin' wives with thick lasso
big bags of the grass, Zig Zags, I'm with the Doc, so
you know how that go- skull and the cross bones
this is poison to boys and girls who do not know
you do not wanna try this at home my little vato
this is neither the time nor the place to get macho
so crack a six-pack, sit back with some nachos
maybe some popcorn watch the show, and just rock slow
it's not what you expected, nor what you thought so
'bout time that you wake the fuck up smell the pot smoke
Chorus
It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
that's creeping up on me why I'm so high
maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me
whatever's got into me I don't mind
I said it's the ganja it's the marijuana
that's creeping up on me why I'm so high
maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me
whatever's got into me I don't mind
Verse 2
Your dreams are getting fulfilled, ooh I'm literally getting a chill
spitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pill
your submitting to skill, sitting still I'm admitting I'm beginning to feel
like I don't think anyone's real
faced with a dilemma, I can be Dahli Lama
and be calm or bring drama step beyond a Jeffery Dahmer
please don't upset me mamma, yer lookin' sexy mamma
don't know if it's the la-la or the rum and Pepsi mamma
don't wanna end up inside my refrigerator freezer
be used as extra topping next time I make a pizza
how many people you know who can name every serial killer who ever existed in a row?
Put 'em in chronological order beginning with Jack the Ripper
name the time and place from the body the bag the zipper
location of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped
the trunk that they were stuffed in the model the make the plate
and which model which lake they found her and how they attacked the victim
say which murder weapon was used to do what in which one?
Which knife and which gun, what kid what wife and which nun?
Don't stop I like this it's fun, the fuckin' night's just begun
Chorus
Verse 3
When I'm behind the mic, dynamite's what it's kinda like
you're stuck with the same stick that your tryin' to light
behind the boards sits Dre, legends are made this way
isn't it safe to say, this is the way it should be?
Maybe you need some lyric serum syrup for your symptoms
here's a dosage of the antidote now you give him some
he can give her some, she can give them some, get behind a Linn Drum
make up a beat and cure the sucker syndrome
the spinnin' drum when it comes to lyrics and pennin' some
starting from scratch and then ending up at the endin' of
capable of winning a Pulitzer so unbelievable it's a
titanium cranium that's full of sur-
prises when the smoke rises right before your very own eyes
you stare into your stereos high
good evening, this isn't even a weed thing
I ain't even smoke anything I aint even drinking
Chorus
I feel like dancing, I feel like dancing
I smell something in the air that's making me high
I said I smell something in the air that's making me high
Verse 1
(Ok here we go) do-re-me-fa-so-fa-so-la-ti-da-so
lyrical Roscoe kick back a Tabasco
you motherfuckers must just not know the tic-toc so
time to show you the most kick-ass flow in the cosmos
Picasso with a pick-axe a sick asshole
tic-tac-toe 'cross your six-pack with X-acto
knives, stranglin' wives with thick lasso
big bags of the grass, Zig Zags, I'm with the Doc, so
you know how that go- skull and the cross bones
this is poison to boys and girls who do not know
you do not wanna try this at home my little vato
this is neither the time nor the place to get macho
so crack a six-pack, sit back with some nachos
maybe some popcorn watch the show, and just rock slow
it's not what you expected, nor what you thought so
'bout time that you wake the fuck up smell the pot smoke
Chorus
It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
that's creeping up on me why I'm so high
maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me
whatever's got into me I don't mind
I said it's the ganja it's the marijuana
that's creeping up on me why I'm so high
maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me
whatever's got into me I don't mind
Verse 2
Your dreams are getting fulfilled, ooh I'm literally getting a chill
spitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pill
your submitting to skill, sitting still I'm admitting I'm beginning to feel
like I don't think anyone's real
faced with a dilemma, I can be Dahli Lama
and be calm or bring drama step beyond a Jeffery Dahmer
please don't upset me mamma, yer lookin' sexy mamma
don't know if it's the la-la or the rum and Pepsi mamma
don't wanna end up inside my refrigerator freezer
be used as extra topping next time I make a pizza
how many people you know who can name every serial killer who ever existed in a row?
Put 'em in chronological order beginning with Jack the Ripper
name the time and place from the body the bag the zipper
location of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped
the trunk that they were stuffed in the model the make the plate
and which model which lake they found her and how they attacked the victim
say which murder weapon was used to do what in which one?
Which knife and which gun, what kid what wife and which nun?
Don't stop I like this it's fun, the fuckin' night's just begun
Chorus
Verse 3
When I'm behind the mic, dynamite's what it's kinda like
you're stuck with the same stick that your tryin' to light
behind the boards sits Dre, legends are made this way
isn't it safe to say, this is the way it should be?
Maybe you need some lyric serum syrup for your symptoms
here's a dosage of the antidote now you give him some
he can give her some, she can give them some, get behind a Linn Drum
make up a beat and cure the sucker syndrome
the spinnin' drum when it comes to lyrics and pennin' some
starting from scratch and then ending up at the endin' of
capable of winning a Pulitzer so unbelievable it's a
titanium cranium that's full of sur-
prises when the smoke rises right before your very own eyes
you stare into your stereos high
good evening, this isn't even a weed thing
I ain't even smoke anything I aint even drinking
Chorus
