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stop smokin' that shit (vocal) - kmd lyrics

[intro]
“why do you keep smoking that sh*t? why will you keep smoking that sh*t?
why? why? why do you keep smoking that sh*t?”
aight, check it out yo, check it out yo
i’ma flip yo, check it out * bust it

[verse 1: zev love x]
i connect to spots like connect*the*dots
from the lower east side, to way up top
i got a map to express on the 6, i found you
where they got the raw dog smoke at soundview
now, two nicks, d*mnit, do you understand?
sike! nuff respect to the dread man or i’ma dead man
i ain’t no fed man for the red hand
it’s just my walkman with instructions from redman
whomever i step to, remove the phillie filter
’cause i used to know this b*tch and it k!lled her
(that b*tch is dеad, yo)
i’m smokin’ that sh*t, ’cause i got a thousand jokes
like puttin’ your moms in a yokе ’cause she broke some choke
b*tch, you’re blowin’ up the spot, be out
yo, either get some dough, or get the f*ck down south
with your b*tch*ass son and tell him throw up his dukes
so i can spend his lunch loot at noop noop

[verse 2: kurious]
check it, i do the hip*hop, the hibby, the hibby dibby
kurious the too*fly magician, never givin’
these n*ggas a piece of my pie, ’cause, yo, my sh*t is fat
just like my pockets, your girl’s titties is flat
so, when the b*tch slid in correct with the funk from her big bra
i kindly reply, with a smile, “ayo chill, hot d*mn”
uh, uh, uh, i’m so sorry, umm
feed your tits, ’cause them sh*ts is from somalia
check it out, on the one to the two
it’s some sh*t from the zoo, it’s the c.m. (crew!)
not from the c*cks but the blocks on the street or the goat
with the 40s, the glocks, the philly and the smoke
just like george bush is the type to drop bombs
jorge kurious will smoke skunk wit’cha moms
throw a 50 yard pass with an afro pick
to steve, earthquake, stop smokin’ that sh*t
[verse 3: earthquake]
i keep my gun out my holster, i’m wanted on the poster
’cause i shot the sheriff and knocked the chip off my shoulder
he tried to get cute, so earthquake had to erase him
and place him in america’s top ten, like casey kasem
i tracked him, an actor with no sense of humor
if you heard i fell off, n*gga, it’s only just a rumor
so, step the f*ck back before you get your sh*t cracked
i had some digable planets, so now i’m fat like that
280 pounds of pure funk, and no junk
i sn*tch a ho b*tch up just like dave did the chipmunks
kid, i’m rough tough, strong enough to call your bluff
handcuff your wife up, while your b*tch, give me a buff
i do run run run, i do run the emcees
the king of rap, you don’t believe me? believe these!
def rhymes on wax, don’t call me, send a fax
i slam hard like anthrax, so turn it up to the max
stop! you’re pinchin my nerves, with rap slurs
i do my best herb, now it’s time to get served
so, suck my d*ck, i don’t smoke that sh*t
i don’t want this sh*t, so you flip the script

[chorus]
you know i’m on that sh*t * stop smokin’ that sh*t
you know i’m on that sh*t * stop smokin’ that sh*t
i’m always always on that sh*t * stop smokin’ that sh*t
yeah i’m on that sh*t * stop smokin’ that sh*t
[verse 4: lord sear]
stop smokin’ that sh*t, ‘fore you get k!lled
you know the flavor, my man, so just chill
now, hold your head up and hold your head high
stop smokin’ the dust, you just might die
relax your mainframe, the bolder gets paid
and you won’t have no motherf*ckin’ game
as you know, i’m on the microphone to let you all know
that sh*t that you smoke will make you mad broke
i don’t give a f*ck about you and your crew
i’m not too lovesick, drink that brew i’m a nancy drew
i don’t solve mysteries, never wearin’ lev’s
that’s not the motherf*ckin’ attire to be wearing, see
so pack up, my man i went out of breath
i got asthma on the side, take it on to the left
so stop smokin’ that sh*t my man
and i’m out, see ya later, so kick the can

[verse 5: subroc]
i drink colt 45 and talk in mad jive
you know i stay alive, my n*ggas stay alive
easy on the smoke, i don’t really feel like tokin’
i gotta save some breath for this b*tch i be strokin’
everyday, i make a n*gga get fright
jealous*ass, p*ssy*ass n*gga can’t fight
i’m in my new disguise, feedin’ pigeons
ducks, any bird and bond’s my word (word is bond)
i make gadgets, illy, ill toys that k!ll
sleep on me, you’ll get a sleepin’ pill
pin that n*gga down right on the mat (bang!)
if you ain’t my n*gga, don’t reach for no gat
slap, right to the head
i’m blitzed to whip that ass, muerto style, dead
y’knahmsayin?
[outro]
smokin’ that sh*t
yeah, c’mon * smokin’ that sh*t
sear, n*gga you know * smokin’ that sh*t
earthquake, you know my man you’re cold * smokin’ that sh*t
kurious jorge i know you’re not * smokin’ that sh*t
zev love what you doin? smokin’ that sh*t
stop smokin’ that sh*t, stop smokin’ that sh*t
hahaha, smokin that motherf*ckin sh*t!
word up, yeah yeah, smokin that sh*t
smokin that motherf*ckin’ sh*t, you’re motherf*cking right
put the f*ckin pipe down!!

- kmd lyrics

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