I Got 5 On It (Reprise)

[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 nigga?
Damn, I think I got 2 bucks in my sock, nigga
Well that's that; fuck 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 nigga need a tall can
Damn, open the door, Blood
Nigga, 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 nigga bust a U-ie then
Nigga, 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 fuck them tricks, nigga let's get smoked!
Pass the doobie to the left biddy-bum-bum-boo!
Whoa! What the fuck wrong with you?!
Damn I had a flash back
This nigga fronting me some yay
But you know that he ain't gonna get his cash back
Nigga what if the cash jack?
Oh it's cool
Fuck 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, nigga let's smoke this
Let's roll a blunt wit the skunk
Why you bring that scand'lous-ass sack?
Man this shit ain't no punk
Here smell this
Roll it up then nigga!
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, shit I ain't got nothing!
(Sorry)
Man I spend with you all the time
(Sorry no I.D., no Cahhlo's Rossi Rine)
Aw fuck 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
Fuckin with that Indo weed
I got 5 on it
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got 5 on it
Nigga lets go half on a sack!

[Verse 2: Knumskull]
I take a sack to the face whenever I can
Fuck a crutch; I be smoking that shit
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
Fuck that, you better bring your own shit chief
Wassup, don't babysit that
You better pass the joint
Nigga 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 piss test for my P.O
I know I failed cause I done smoked hella weed, bro
An every time we with Chris
That nigga rollin' up a fatty
But the Tanqueray straight had me

[Dru Down]
Lit to the fullest extreme
There was getting no higher
That shit had my chest on fire
Dru Down was swigging to the face straight
But I ain't fuckin 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
Nigga 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
Fuckin with that Indo weed
I got 5 on it
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got 5 on it
Nigga 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, nigga
Eh man quit hogging up the joint, man you babysitting it
What you talking about?
Pass that shit 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
Fuck 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
Niggas 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 shit
Unless you pull out the phat crispy
5 dollar bill on the real before its history
Cause niggas 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 dick-teasers
Skeezers and weirdos
That be fuckin' 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 nigga go delirious like Eddie Murphy
I got more Growing Pains than Maggie
Cause niggas 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
Fuckin with that Indo weed
I got 5 on it
It's got me stuck and I'm tore back
I got 5 on it
Nigga lets go half on a sack!