I Got 5 On It (Reprise) lyrics

[Intro: Mike Marshall]
Creep on in
See I'm riding high
Kinda broke you see so all I got is 5
I got 5 on it

[Verse 1: Knumskull & Yukmouth]
I got 5 on it
I got 5, what you got n*gga?
Damn, I think I got 2 bucks in my sock, n*gga
Well that's that; f*ck it!
I think I got 3 bucks in my backpack
Enough to get a phat sack
Hell yeah!
You got some zags?
Not at all man
Let's get some from the store
Fa sho, because a n*gga need a tall can
Damn, open the door, Blood
n*gga, where my keys at?
I don't know
Remember I gave em to you to get that weed sack
Oh, here they are in my sock
Put your seatbelt on
Cause there's hella cops parked up the block
Well n*gga bust a U-ie then
n*gga, fire up that doobie then
Hell nah!
You major scand'lous, partna
Well sue me then
Oh, be like that on a roach?
Nope, look at them hoes!
Man f*ck them tricks, n*gga let's get smoked!
Pass the doobie to the left biddy-bum-bum-boo!
Whoa! What the f*ck wrong with you?!
Damn I had a flash back
This n*gga fronting me some yay
But you know that he ain't gonna get his cash back
n*gga what if the cash jack?
Oh it's cool
f*ck this, I'm putting it in the cuts
It's bad enough he got no tags on the Cutlass
Eh you know what? 84th is the closest
Yup. Oooh! A fat ass Tamp, n*gga let's smoke this
Let's roll a blunt wit the skunk
Why you bring that scand'lous-ass sack?
Man this sh*t ain't no punk
Here smell this
Roll it up then n*gga!
Haha, yeah!
Let's go half on some liquor
Yeah go get some Tanquo or something
(Eh, I got to see some I.D.)
Aww man, sh*t I ain't got nothing!
(Sorry)
Man I spend with you all the time
(Sorry no I.D., no Cahhlo's Rossi Rine)
Aw f*ck that!
They didn't let you get the drank?
(Get out my store!)
Man, I ain't trippin
[Chorus: Mike Marshall]
I got 5 on it
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got 5 on it
f*ckin with that Indo weed
I got 5 on it
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got 5 on it
n*gga lets go half on a sack!

[Verse 2: Knumskull]
I take a sack to the face whenever I can
f*ck a crutch; I be smoking that sh*t
Til the joint be burning my hand
Next time I roll it in a Tampa
To burn slow so the ashes won't be burning up my hand, brah
Hoes want to 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
f*ck that, you better bring your own sh*t chief
Wassup, don't babysit that
You better pass the joint
n*gga stop hitting cause you know you got asthma
Crack a 40 open homie and guzzle it
Cause I know the weed in my system is getting lonely
I gotta take a p*ss test for my P.O
I know I failed cause I done smoked hella weed, bro
An every time we with Chris
That n*gga rollin' up a fatty
But the Tanqueray straight had me
[Dru Down]
Lit to the fullest extreme
There was getting no higher
That sh*t had my chest on fire
Dru Down was swigging to the face straight
But I ain't f*ckin with that
I think I'll stick to the crazy 8's
Bring me a bottle and I'm cool with that
I'mma a lounge with that
n*gga bring me a phat sack
I don't know how to roll
But I know how to smoke!
I think I'm gonna hit it til my ass choke

[Chorus: Mike Marshall]
I got 5 on it
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got 5 on it
f*ckin with that Indo weed
I got 5 on it
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got 5 on it
n*gga lets go half on a sack!

[Interlude]
Woo-wee! Baby-boy!
I'm hella high, damn that's that indo
Only Oakland got that Doja like that
Only the town, n*gga
Eh man quit hogging up the joint, man you babysitting it
What you talking about?
Pass that sh*t over here
[Verse 3: Yukmouth]
Player, give me some brew and I might just chill
But I'm the type that likes 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
f*ck with the S the T, I-D-E-S
Nevertheless I'm hella fresh
Rolling joints like a cigarette
So pass it cross the table like ping-pong
I'm gone, beating my chest like King Kong
It's on, wrap my lips around a 40
And when it comes to get another stogie
n*ggas all kick in like Shinobi
Nummy ain't my homie to begin with
It's too many heads to be popping to let my friend hit sh*t
Unless you pull out the phat crispy
5 dollar bill on the real before its history
Cause n*ggas be having them vacuum lungs
An if you let em hit it for free
You hella dum-da-dum-dum!
I come to school with the Taylor on my earlobe
Avoiding all the di*k-teasers
Skeezers and weirdos
That be f*ckin' off the land like "Where tha bomb at?"
Give me 2 bucks, you take a puff and pass my bomb back
Suck up the dank like a Slurpee
The serious bomb will make a n*gga go delirious like Eddie Murphy
I got more Growing Pains than Maggie
Cause n*ggas nag me
To take the dank out of the baggie

[Chorus: Mike Marshall]
I got 5 on it
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got 5 on it
f*ckin with that Indo weed
I got 5 on it
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got 5 on it
n*gga lets go half on a sack!