Lyrics Oooh / Ghost Weed Skit 01 - Redman , De La Soul

Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled
Get your ass up, and let's get ill
That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin' your bluff
And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)

Yo, don't scandalize
Mine, I spent too much time
Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk
Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?
Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear
Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare
While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)
Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three
Coats for both child, woman and man

God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall
It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique
It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh

It ain't my fault
Your ass is on the asphalt, got your chin touched
By my fam who though you brought harm, you see
I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet
Oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me
Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D
Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since
Luke was Luke Skywalk', man, my
Topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game
Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the
Past drug, a life filled with (*GUNS*)
That's what thugs love, snatch you fast, wrap that ass
In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice
Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold
'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up, we run up a tab
And gladly add a little extra for miss
Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss
Most crews are post-current while we're forever
Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages
Graduated from the you-and-I-versity
Of hard-hitters, for real

Yo, I got niggas
In the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and get
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight
Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound
Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down
Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!

Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong
I had plans to buy more land, plant corn
Bust kernels on heat, work hard like ___backs
Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile
Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat
Big money's make the big decisions, keep hip-hop
Alive, it's just an intermission
Back to the second half of the feature flick
Dick stacks and fuck rap.

I had a name for makin' paper
Since papier-mâché
Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play
While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker
You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor
Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it
Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it
Rap cats talk with no will in it
Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo
Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed
(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job, took all the goodies
Out from under the tree, except the CD's
Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' emcees
Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees
Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes
You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon'
Relax your mind, let your conscious be free

Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!

(*Adjusting Radio dial)
Hey hip hoppers, tired of that old trend of ghost writers?
Well here's the newest sensation that's sweepin the nation
GHOST WEED GHOST WEEEED
Hey ballers, ballettes, thugs, chickenheads
Take a listen to how Ghost Weed will help you kick it
Like your favorite rapper
Just a couple of hits and (PUFF PUFF) it's gangster.

Watch how we secretly sabotage this cypher with Ghost Weed

Step back off me, I got Pharoahe Monch
Yo you need to take some more son
Yo I take another hit?
Oh Shit
That's that fire shit
Yo yall gon let me get busy?
Yo I wanna hear you rhyme
I'm ready drop that beat

How many niggas who actually kill still rhymin?
How many niggas who are actually signed still killin?
And when it comes to killin a mic they aint willin
And im supposed to be shook, that's the shit that kills me
Take a bullet for X in the ballroom and then vanish, extinguish
To someone I drew
Play pool with the planets
Lyrics, outlandish
My shits straight from the soul, god dammit
It's the one time only
Vernacular original, spectacular miraculous flow
Computer digital
I ridicule the pitiful
Piss upon the miniscule
Pharoahe Monch better park that ass like municipal

YO
You ripped that shit
You ripped that shit kid
Way out of control, yo
You kinda had that
It was the weed, it was the trees

GHOST WEED!