Figured out long time ago 
Nothing's as it seems don't you know 
Go underground if you want the scoop 
Cuz the population's out the loop 

You know I size up my sacks with a couple extra grams 
D-Loc got a caddy, I got a V-Dub van, 
X Daddy rolled a fatty, asked him 'What's the plan?' 
He took a hit, blew out his rip 
And said, 'Let's plant the land' 

Yeah I smoke some weed, just a little somethin somethin 
Don't hate me because I got the country buzzin 
Leave cats shocked, you know the crowd be jumpin 
On my pride it blows like a chemical combustion 
My real name's Dustin, I spit these customs 
AKA D-Loc, E-Loc's little cousin 
Don't be mad, be glad, tell your dad 
Cuz I be spittin' rhymes you never knew I even had 
(??) (into the store?), double parked and got a ticket 
By a midget on a pony, I called him shorty 
He started twitchin, fingers clickin 
While he's bitchin, and I snapped 
I had a vision, I was leading in the useless race 
I had the pole position, no but kiddin' 
And I didn't make that mess up in your kitchen 
I was dishin' out some sacks, and me and Loc, well we were fishin 
I keep wishin' that you'd ease on up and quit it with your trippin 
Maybe smoke a bit more weed and stop it with that candy flippin 

Let's face facts, chips get stacked 
Unsystematically our pockets get fat 
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs 
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks 

Think you can out smoke me, well I'm calling you a liar 
Cuz my bowl, I set it on fire 
I'm on my couch with my pouch and my fat JB 
Got ten different types of weed, about a pound of each 
No leaves, they're clipped clean 
But the few they hit the bing 
Then my phone rings, my boy askin what he need to bring 
I said some coligreen, some kale, some pot, and some ale 
And that freak we met last night, I think her name was uh...Michelle 
Ah what the hell, just put out the word 
Any hottie with the nerve, Richter said that he will serve 

Graduated high school back in '95,started writin' rhymes 
Laid low, I'm hard to find 
A kid like me, no less, I'm kinda fresh 
Discovered the weed, took a hit and got blessed 
I'm not the best, just flexed on the next 
Daddy X plan a text, simply not complexed 
I'll give it all I got, put the game to a test 
Keep writin' rhymes and forget about the rest 

Let's face facts, chips get stacked 
Unsystematically our pockets get fat 
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs 
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks 

Ooh damn, there he goes again 
Throwin' his cigarettes out the window 
Blowin' fog with logs, sticky indo 
You know it comes a dime a dozen 
Flow like Snoop, lay it back in the cut and 
Woo, I think I'll pass on the brew 
And smoke my buds with the Kottonmouth Krew, 
The big bad ass, you know who 

Well, I really can't tell if there's a difference anymore 
Goin' up or goin' down, where's the elevator door? 
Got the pimped out suite on the 13th floor 
Black Flag's in my speakers blarin' 'Gimme some more' 
Nowadays I stay blazed, a hundred ways, my brain's crazed 
Gone like those punk days, I'm stackin' chips like Frito, Lays 
I've been to that place, fast cars, cheap thrills 
Funny looking pills, million dollar deals 
Three day orgys in the Hollywood Hills, for real 
I don't be speakin' no myths, raised on punk rock riffs 
Smokin' spliffs by the cliffs 
And you and your crew's talking about 'What if...?''s 

Let's face facts, chips get stacked 
Unsystematically our pockets get fat 
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs 
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks 

All this talk of gettin' blazed, reminds me of reggae Sundays 
Lazy dread and sweaters bust, the Crenshaw District lord was a must 
Burnin' spliffs to tell (??), hittin' little Jamaica's rockin record shops 
(??) in stock and cravin (egg?) eating stones, (??) 
All this talk of gettin' blazed, reminds me of punk rock ways 
Babylon could never rock our boat, all I need (??) 
That's what's really goin' on, life's too short to be a victim 
If you don't like what you got, respond 
When time has come to make a move, down to you to come up and prove 
It's time to make a change, so chose 

Let's face facts, chips get stacked 
Unsystematically our pockets get fat 
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs 
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks 

Ganja business controls America