Ganja & Pasta lyrics

What’s that sound? The awesome sound?

Yeah, Awesome Sound, what’s this?
Ganja and pasta
Smoke like rastas
And live like mobsters n*gga

[Hook] [XV]:
Smoke like rastas, live like mobsters
Smoke like rastas, live like mobsters
(Yea we) Smoke like rastas, live like mobsters
We got that ganja and pasta, ganja and pasta

[Verse One: Freddie High]
I said "Awesome you’re a rasta for this beat cause it’s a monster."
Ganja and pasta, a few shots of vodka
Girls, see y'all teeming, wanna hop up on our roster
So Vizzy grab that drink and put them hoes up in the casa
I make a living off of killing beats, doctor
Now put this in your headphones and watch it change your posture
Impostors, got us fighting in the streets, Blanka
You just a single player in this Game, Boy Contra
Jungle where we from but we’re living like mobsters
My team going green, blowing stinky like "ooh"
Love life loyalty, over all things
If you n*ggas know the motto then you know that’s my team
[Hook: XV](x2)

[Verse Two: Sez Batters]
I roam through Jamaica, Christmas trees in Sicily
They know I’m nice, chicks want just to get with me
Roam through Jamaica, Christmas trees in Sicily
They know I’m nice, chicks want just to get with me
Roam through Jamaica, Christmas trees in Sicily
Roam through Jamaica, Christmas trees in Sicily
Roam through Jamaica, roam through Jamaica
Roam, roam, roam, roam, roam through Jamaica
V know I’m nice, chicks whine just to get with me
Treat'em with the mask on, I ain't with the trickery
The squares hit the site, two teams, officially
Take 'em out the game, balls go over heads
Like you take em to the plane, you ain’t in the lane
Not from the gutter but the pen game the same
X told me not to spare 'em, had to beat em out the frame
Joey said "whoa", Batterz 'bout to blow
Today’s a hurricane, and yesterday I gave 'em snow
Also blew the roof off, I had to save the flow
Good fellas with good fella, y'all n*ggas better know

[Hook: XV](x2)

[Verse Three: XV]
Smoke like a rasta, live like a mobster
Real monsters, you could call me Hoffa
My n*gga J keep it Michael Bay, hella choppers
So that 9 stay on the block like Ibaka
Where you think Sez Batters he’s got his name from?
Where you think Deuce 1 got the game from?
Found some cushion like whoopie when they spray guns
Cause I don’t got no sisters that act
So they don’t play none/nun
See what we started, smoking that olive garden
Bong made of glass, your sh*t is plastic as Dolly Parton
I beg your pardon, my culture accepted losses
Now we on that final level my n*gga, we bosses
[Hook: XV](x2)

[Outro: XV]
So let me break something down with the Squarian ritual
You know what I mean?
Like one thing that we do in the game of chamber when we, when we have, you know?
A nice gentlemen meal like some pasta
You gotta roll a J, a’ight?
And then we we’re sitting there watching Marley
And the Awesome Sound was like "Man, we might as well be living that ganja and pasta life."
I was like "Alright." For no reason