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ganja bus - el bandito lyrics

[intro]
chea!
uh, you need another hit?
then roll it up, and smoke it quick
interference better clear it
or you’ll perish, the sincerest, no comparing it
…
how come these haters tryna label me delirious?
when i reacted furious, you m-th-f-ckas serious!?
my weaponry in bullets are so various it’s airing through
your fears are under magic spells, i only play it rude

[hook: 2x]
you wanna come and smoke some ganja? (ganja!)
you better have some friends, i ain’t f-ckin’ with you man!
you wanna come and smoke some ganja? (ganja!)
you better have some friends, i ain’t f-ckin’ with you man!

[verse 1]
some dudes don’t know the codes, they die, in shattered fractions
revealed in hidden minds, deny it conveniently, it happens
cus them other m-th-f-ckas got me worried that’s it tapped
and when they found out, explosions h-t ’em on they back
as you collect the cash, we pull them pistols for a fact
like a mission for crack, now you wanna tell me how to rap?
f-ck it, dump ’em up in bottomless pits, some sick sh-t
cracked, but individually the marks of fingerprints
was never enough to track their last known location (suckers!)
impatient but still waiting, i know that one is faking
but i don’t worry, they gone try it, then we might’ve have…
to beat ’em up in bas-m-nts, cemeteries, leave ’em in the flesh
with that said, cop k!llers, start spilling, burn prisons
turn sickness in an urn, reminiscing while the earth spinning
outta metrical control, the system has a glitch, how interesting
somebody wanna come and take another hit, smoke instantly

[hook: 2x]
you wanna come and smoke some ganja? (ganja!)
you better have some friends, i ain’t f-ckin’ with you mayne!
you wanna come and smoke some ganja? (ganja!)
you better have some friends, i ain’t f-ckin’ with you mayne!

[verse 2]
it’s the m-th-f-cking ventriloquist, f-ck your little business kids
i’m here to f-ck your rhythms, simultaneously kicking ill spits
listen while inhaling, i be laying back, you playing it
then i be right back to switch the verse as you praying
i get smoked up, loco, oh f-ck a so-so…
it ain’t my fault you came here to get choked up (what’s up!?)
when they figured out they already pressed the b-tton
self-destruction sequences initiated, that’s something
these little m-th-f-ckas thinking i’m too slow when i react
that when they pulled the string that held explosives, came back
demons p-ssed off, lucifer sent me back in real time
and hates the way that i survive, but i’m just f-cking high
and while i’m chillin’ with the boys smoking big dro
we all gone kick it, as the lyrics got that sick flow
and they still tripping, tryna drag me out the booth
there’s only one person keeping me sane, and it sure as h-ll ain’t you!

[verse 3]
the rest be all mean mugging, ain’t that lil meanie something
thinking it’s an evil h-llion, enveloped in a freezing coffin
they ain’t talkin’ bout you, we just tryna get sh-t done
so don’t worry ’bout the smoke, we gone roll if it’s on
p-ss the ammo, hit some bongs and we’ll be right back
to rip you, split you, show you where the fights at
p-ss the mic then, and enter the big weapon as you fly back, strike fast
your flights crash and no one will be able to recite that
yes, as a matter of fact, nothing was seen
but they still tryna touch what i can reek, from within
that chubby f-ck is slipping, be content if you gone win
dodge maneuver, cartridge auto shooters, got ’em pinned
but if it’s gonna go like that, then we gone ride so fast
that when you b-mp the speakers, tripping on it that’s called amp
psychology was not an option for you obviously, godd-mn!
i got them hammers, intoxicated prisoners, and garbage cans

- el bandito lyrics

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