Текст песни Roll It Up Again - Cypress Hill

Intro:

(*guy toking up*)
Fuckin buddha comin at′cha live
Direct with the biggest, fattest joint
Comin in with indo flavours
Fuckin buddha comin at'cha like this
′95

Verse 1: B-Real

It's Friday mornin', where the weed at?
Let me dip into my pocket for my fat weed sack
Cos I wanna get high like a plane
In the sky with the endo cloud in my brain
Where the fuck are my zig-zags and my lighters?
So I can roll it and set it on fire
Damn, I wish I had scissors cus the shit is so sticky
That it′s gettin′ on my fuckin' fingers
But it′s smokeable, double tokeable
I got the one-hitta quitta, Bombay shit that's tokeable
I wanna do a joint venture
Let me make sure there ain′t no lump in the goddamn center
The impregnated lookin' joint, fuck it
I can smoke it and I still get faded

Chorus:

Roll it up, light it up, smoke it up
Inhale exhale
*Repeat x3*

(I′m the freaka, the one freaks the funk
*Repeat*

Verse 2: (Sen Dogg), B-Real

(East Coast hittin' that blunt), West Coast hittin' that honey-dip
Marijuana joint then I want another hit
Roll it up, (light it up), smoke it up
I wanna stimulate my mind (so I toke it up)
Can I get a hit? (Can I get a hooh!?)
Gimme that fat bag of weed and the brew
So I can get faded, elevated
Smoke the joint down to a roach then I ate it
I stand true to the Yesca Mota
(As I keep runnin from the chunta)
Gimme dat weed fool and ya zig-zags
(Puto won′t be holdin′ out on the big bag)

Chorus

(I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk)
*Repeat to fade*