|
Wrap
|
Then pass that joint
|
|
( *in the background* )
|
Where the joint, man?
|
Somebody got it
|
I ain't got it
|
|
Check it out y'all
|
Mad Kap's in the house
|
Nefrettiti's in the house
|
And she finna kick it like this
|
Come on now
|
Come on
|
|
[ VERSE 1: Nefretiti ]
|
So just call me the spark, held by the flame
|
Once again my beats make white boys reclaim
|
A stain on your brain, and yet I'm stayin the same
|
Bust another rhyme, move into the hard time
|
My lifeline revolves into a circle of zero
|
And like for real I never liked no superficial hero
|
Now this joint is fat, so spark up that fat joint
|
And yes, you best believe I'm born again to prove my point
|
To say the least, I know you know that hip-hop won't stop
|
I smooth will get wreck, then pass me the joint
|
|
Pass it around
|
Pass it around
|
Pass it around(2x)
|
|
[ Motif ]
|
Improvisation is the key to this freestyle
|
Hip-hop style, while jazz in the meanwhile
|
Stride, glide, and all that good stuff
|
Ride to the rhythm of this jazz, it's rough
|
You're crippled in the brain from a late night feature
|
The government is run by the beast and the creatures
|
Hanger for the hook-up, for the jab it's junk
|
They're comin in your speaker with the funk-fu-fu-funk
|
Some want you to say today I can't fit on one caper
|
Take out the seeds and begin to rollin papers
|
Then I roll the blunt or a spliff or a fattie
|
Feelin like a hood with a beanie in a Caddy
|
I love my herb, I love my money, cause I'm young, matty
|
Never eat the pork, cause it's much, much too fatty
|
So come down, selector, and give me my props
|
I'm runnin through a field of marihuana crops
|
I'm thinkin, all the green, fat, crazy, stinky buds
|
Flow on the instrumental, cause this rhyme is not a dud
|
|
[ Coke ]
|
Gettin crazy blunted, and you'll never say I fronted
|
On the raps, cause I take the track and run it
|
Into the ground, I'm ghetto clown number one
|
Rhymes are kinda fat like two tons of fun
|
Smash, boom, bam! and I never sound flam
|
It's that nigga King Tee with the Mad Kap band
|
Gettin stupid high off the chocolate ghetto thai
|
So pass the dutchie on the left-hand side
|
King Tee and Nef, and the rhymes are on point
|
But now it's time for Coke to pass the fuckin joint
|
|
Pass it around
|
Pass it around
|
Pass it around(5x)
|
|
[ King Tee ]
|
Now here comes the bomb...
|
Pass it around, throw some flex in
|
Peek-a-boo! I mean - ooh! I be fresh when
|
I do that, but wait - who dat? It's the King
|
Mad Kap, Nefrettiti's the queen
|
With the sound of Africa to the streets
|
Somethin the Man can't cheat
|
And make it pop, cause we're already poppin
|
So I'm whistlin, sittin on the dock by
|
The bay, singin 'ay-hey,' can you copy?
|
Boomin like a jeep, deep with my posse
|
What's up, sister? yeah, it's Mister
|
K-i-n-g Tee, I brung a mixture
|
Of ruff rhymes, I drove by to shoot the pop rap
|
Cause you know you gotta stop that
|
Bullshit, but when my pull hits, it's on point
|
And I got the fat joint
|
|
Pass it around
|
Pass it around
|
Pass it around(4x)
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
We Got Tha Fat Joint
|
King Tee |