Creep on in (on in, on in)
Whoa, see I'm ridin' high (whoa)
Kinda broke this evening, y'all
So all I got's five, I got five

Player, give me some brew and I might just chill
But I'm the type that like to light another joint
Like Cypress Hill
I steal doobies, spit loogies when I puff on it
I got some bucks on it, but it ain't enough on it
Go get the S, the T, I-D-E-S
Nevertheless, I'm hella fresh
Rollin' joints like a cigarette (yeah)
So pass it 'cross the table like ping pong
I'm gone, beatin' my chest like King Kong
It's on, wrap my lips around a 40
And when it comes to get another stogie
Fools all kick in like Shinobi (you don't know me)
No, he ain't my homie to begin with
It's too many heads to be poppin' to let my friend get bent
Unless you pull out the fat, crispy
Five dollar bill on the real, before it's history
'Cause fools be having them vacuum lungs
And if you let 'em hit it for free you hella dum-da-dum-dumb
I come to school with a Taylor on my earlobe
Avoiding all the thick teasers, skeezers, and weirdos
That be blowing off the land like, "Where the bomb at?"
Give me two bucks, you take a puff and pass my bomb back
Suck up the dank like a Slurpee
The serious bomb will make a niggy go delirious like Eddie Murphy
I got more Growing Pains than Maggie
'Cause homies nag me to take the dank out of the baggie

I got five on it (got it good)
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got five on it
Messin' wit that Indo weed
I got five on it (got it good)
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got five on it
Partna, let's go half on a sack

I take sacks to the face whenever I can
Don't need no crutch, I'm so keyed up
'Til the joint be burnin' my hand
Next time I roll it in a hampa
To burn slow so the ashes won't be burnin' up my hand, bruh
Hoochies can hit but they know they got to pitch in
Then I roll a joint that's longer than your extension
'Cause I'll be damned if you get high off me for free
Hell no, you better bring your own spliff, chief (got it good)
What's up? Don't babysit that, better pass the joint
Stop hittin' 'cause you know ya got asthma
Crack a 40 open, homie, and guzzle it
'Cause I know the weed in my system is gettin' lonely
I gotta take a whiz test to my P.O.
I know I failed 'cause I done smoked major weed, bro
And every time we with Chris, that fool rollin' up a fatty (oowee)
But the Tanqueray straight had me

I got five on it (got it good)
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got five on it
Messin' wit that Indo weed
I got five on it (got it good)
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got five on it (got it good)
Partna, let's go half on a sack

Ayy, make this right, man, stop at the light, man
My yester-night thing got me hung off the night train
You fade, I fade, so let's head to the East
Hit the stroll to 9-0 so we can roll big hashish
I wish I could fade the eighth, but I'm low budget
Still rolling a two-door Cutlass, same old bucket
Foggy windows, soggy Indo
I'm in the 'Land getting smoked wit my kinfolk

I been smoked, Yuk'll spray ya, lay ya down (got it good)
up in the O-A-K the Town
Homies don't play around, we down to blaze a pound
Then ease up, speed up through the E-S-O
Drink the V-S-O-P up with a lemon squeeze up
And everybody's rolled up, I'm the roller
That's quick to fold a blunt out of a bunch of sticky doja (oowee)
Hold up, suck up my weed is all you do (got it good)
Kick in feed, 'cause where I be's, we needs half like Umfufu

I got five on it (got it good)
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got five on it
Messin' wit that Indo weed
I got five on it (got it good)
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got five on it (got it good)
Partna, let's go half on a sack

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THE MUSIC GOES ROUND, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Anthony Gilmour, Claydes Smith, Dennis Thomas, Denzil Foster, Donald Boyce, Garrick Husbands, George Brown, Jay King, Jerold Ellis, Mike Marshall, Rick Westfield, Robert Bell, Robert Mickens, Ronald Bell, Thomas Mc Elroy