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Smokin` up an L

Might kill a brain cell

But I might as well

I`m on a highway to hell

sometimes I feel doomed,

Totally consumed

By an eerie feelin`

I hear pigs squealin`

Soldiers of fortune

Are torchin` huts

The girls on them TVs

Are shakin` their butts

I`m hyperventilatin`

I might be hallucinatin`

Yo I got a chill

I`m feelin` sort of ill

I`m goin` mad

But aren`t ya glad

ya used Dial

I`m goin out like style



[chorus]



Uh and ya don`t quit

Yeah, keep it comin`

And ya don`t stop

They say

Uh and ya don`t quit



I got complexes

Ya can`t figure out

My dad said

"He`s a bum, kick the nigger out"

My head`s fucked up

But I lucked up

And got a hit record

Now I`m well respected

I can go places I never went before

I still dress the same

So it must be my name

I can`t deal

With who`s real and who`s not

Who treated me the same

When my record wasn`t hot

They said I couldn`t eat too

So I put my cake down

I think I`m having a breakdown



[chorus]



It`s not paranoia

I got something for ya

It`s made of chrome

And it`ll burst you dome

No joke my gun`ll

Blow a fuckin` tunnel

Right through your body

FREE JOHN GOTTI

I`ll leave with your hotty

And I`ll take her home

Lay her down on her back

And I`ll make her moan



[chorus]



Uh and ya don`t quit

Yeah, keep me cummin`

And ya don`t stop

Soul Assasins and ya don`t stop

FunkDoobie and ya don`t stop

Cypress Hill and ya don`t stop

House of Pain and ya don`t stop

Soul Assasins and ya don`t stop

Smokin` up an L

Might kill a brain cell

But I might as well

I`m on a highway to hell

sometimes I feel doomed,

Totally consumed

By an eerie feelin`

I hear pigs squealin`

Soldiers of fortune

Are torchin` huts

The girls on them TVs

Are shakin` their butts

I`m hyperventilatin`

I might be hallucinatin`

Yo I got a chill

I`m feelin` sort of ill

I`m goin` mad

But aren`t ya glad

ya used Dial

I`m goin out like style



[chorus]



Uh and ya don`t quit

Yeah, keep it comin`

And ya don`t stop

They say

Uh and ya don`t quit



I got complexes

Ya can`t figure out

My dad said

"He`s a bum, kick the nigger out"

My head`s fucked up

But I lucked up

And got a hit record

Now I`m well respected

I can go places I never went before

I still dress the same

So it must be my name

I can`t deal

With who`s real and who`s not

Who treated me the same

When my record wasn`t hot

They said I couldn`t eat too

So I put my cake down

I think I`m having a breakdown



[chorus]



It`s not paranoia

I got something for ya

It`s made of chrome

And it`ll burst you dome

No joke my gun`ll

Blow a fuckin` tunnel

Right through your body

FREE JOHN GOTTI

I`ll leave with your hotty

And I`ll take her home

Lay her down on her back

And I`ll make her moan



[chorus]



Uh and ya don`t quit

Yeah, keep me cummin`

And ya don`t stop

Soul Assasins and ya don`t stop

FunkDoobie and ya don`t stop

Cypress Hill and ya don`t stop

House of Pain and ya don`t stop

Soul Assasins and ya don`t stop

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