Green Island lyrics

[Production by Reggie Noble]

[Intro dialogue]

[Intro: Redman]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah
(Yeah, he's so funky, smoke the Maui wowi)
Who is them n*ggas Redman and Reggie Noble?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah
(He's so funky, whoa, whoa)
Who is them n*ggas Redman and Reggie Noble?
Nah, nah, check it out, check it out

[Verse 1: Redman]
Motherf*cking
Ladies and gentleman, my style's rugged like Timberland
When I clock dividends women give me more love than Wimbledon, uh
My style flow local like New Jersey transit
And I can't stand it, and you'll need Teddy to unjam it when I cram it
I'm from, N to the E, W-A-R-K
Newark NJ got the AK, when I wave b*tch you better say "Heey!"
I'm a Kid From the Hall
I got big balls to make your pus*y walls drip in your lace drawers
Hey boy this is the way the East Coast swing it so bring it
Man, I turn your ass Brown-er than James with the Sex Machine sh*t
I keep the chronic patrol on the road
In case you're wondering why I keep mad izm
'Cause I smoke everybody else's sh*t up
My style's the ultimate funk when I mic checka, one two checka
And I give effects to n*ggas with my Black and Decker, so check
The manuscript, man you flipped, put it down if you can't handle it
Got a B.R.C.G., Blunt Rollers College Graduate
I got a degrees in Physics on how high I can get
Then next I check how many n*ggas that can die from my TEC
Cause the N-E-W-A-R-K
Is where the n*ggas robbin' and stealin' and buckin' n*ggas every day
Now Jersey's on max so pass the dutchie on the left hand side
Got the hidash, in case we cridash, in my ride
So, sliiiide, before I call the medics
You can bet, b*tch, you couldn't get fly if you was FedEx
Can I, drop the funk on ya, run it on ya?
Strong as ammonia, smell it from here to California
'Cause Reggie Noble dropped that c*ck named Noble at Sunoco
I'm better than rice and beans when I rock you ocho to ocho
My music more underground than a kid at 300 XL
Convertible, fuel-injected, that's why my style's well-respected
I'm dope on the ridealz, so fidealz, on my didealz
And chumps are wondering what two n*ggas dropped the funk, funk!
[Chorus]
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah)
Who is them n*ggas, who is them n*ggas
Who is dem n*ggas Redman and Reggie Noble
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah)
Who is them n*ggas, who is them n*ggas
Reggie Noble, drop the funk one time

[Verse 2: Redman]
Verbally you never heard of me, I smoke you third degrees
And cause surgery for emergency 'cause Reggie Noble known like burglary
I get hot busted when I dip my nuggets (Hey)
'Cause it take a million n*ggas to stop it just like Chuck did
'Cause we run around Newark with the nine on c*ck
Keep it heated for the brothers that's not off my block
And if ya don't know the flavor, be a tough guy and enter
So go show you more n*gga events than Jacob Javits center
I'm genuine, to the rhyme, get your canines
Cops, I got the hot Glock stocked for when it's playtime
I rock around the Robin tweet tweet on the calendar
'Cause you couldn't pull my number if your class major was Algebra
I make b*tches moan to my Stallone without Sylvester
'Cause I'm more deadlier than a whole school system of asbestos
So check us, I always smoke mad blunts before breakfast
'Cause I, Get Around like 2Pac with Poetic in my Justice
Hold tight, hold tight, everybody hold tight
I'm Super like my man Cat, 'cause I keep my styles jam packed
I (wreawow) like Anthrax, split my pants like Bill Bixby
You could tell the tracks was fat from the work of my MP-60
I smoke the chronic that's why my sinus always f*cked up
(Cam-boo, cam-boo cam-boo) Will have you f*cked up
I blaze blunts with my n*gga Mel-low, yo, say hello
(Yo, what up dog?)
Really, now pass the second blunt to Quilly
[Uncle Quilly]
Now sit your big ass down 'cause I don't know about this rap stuff
There wasn't rap when I was pickin' cotton, saying 'massa'
Y'all young whippersnappers, with the caps on backwards
Man, y'all f*ck around with Quilly I kick a bone out yo' ass quick
(Watch out now) I ain't bullsh*ttin'
I represent the O-O-O-O-OG's from '43 goddamnit
And if you keep on with that dirty mistreating
I'm gon' whoop your ass 'til your heart stop beating goddamnit

[Verse 3: Redman]
Ayo, chronic bubonic, the funky bionic you find it I'll have to rewind it
Where minds are blinded, "Time 4 Sum Aksion", so time to find it
I'm smoked out like a cookout, ah, look out, my di*k's out
That was last album when I was bouncing on trains like Malcolm
I was hiiiiigh, I thought I wouldn't survive
That's why I quit my nine to five and got live
Because this "hip to the hop" sh*t fills my pockets
And I'm Audi for '94 because I already got my props
Hoes, hoes, and more hoes...

[Outro: Redman & (*Reggie Noble*)]
Nah nah nah nah n-nah
On the real though, on the real
All jokes aside, word is bond
I'ma come pick you up tomorrow (*Nah nah*)
We gon get some drinks (*f*ck that*)
Get the boodah (*Nah*), get the hiddash (*Ohhkay*)
And we gon chill, we gon smoke (*f*ck you*)
We gon get f*cked up (*Nah, nah*)
We gon go right to the deacon and party (*Nah, uh-uh*)
Word is bond on the real (*Lies. Lies. Lies! LIES!*)
Yo c'mon B (*Yo, f*ck the lyin'*)
I'm forreal—I'm forreal this time, god
(*I remember what you did to me last album, pus*y ass*)
I'm forreal—nah nah, check this out
On the real this time (*You be gamin', god*)
I'm not gon front on you word is bond (*You be gamin', forreal*)
We gon go right to the muthaf*ckin' deacon and chill, n*gga! (*Forreal man?*)
Word up! (*Pshh, a'ight man. Word up, don't play me. Yo—Anyway where the f*ck the deacon at?*)
A-heh... My DEAC-in yo mouth! Heheheh hahahahaha
(*Yo f*ck you*)