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Phillies
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Luniz
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1
[Chorus]
2
P-H-the-I-the-L-the-L-the-I-the-E-the-S.
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We mess with phillies, we roll big phillies.
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(I want to get blunted, my brother.)
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P-H-the-I-the-L-the-L-the-I-the-E-the-S.
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We mess with phillies, we roll big phillies.
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(I want to get blunted, my brother.)
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Suppress the brown bitch, up in the Crown Vic's.
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Spread her legs and put the greenery lips around it.
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Gets around it while niggas quit. (Woah!)
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This bitch look better than Whitney, lick her titties,
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'Cause niggas say the pussy be the stick-icky.
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One puff'll turn your brain cells to dust.
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Head rush, bound to fill your eyes up with the redness.
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Suck her up, but there's a million bitches just like her.
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Even dykes try to fuck her in the cypher, with the lighter.
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Puttin' the dick on the ass an', everybody cashin, black '
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Latino motherfuckers know they be mashin'
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Nigga like whas' happenin'?
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You can keep them sassy, the dickey used to.
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Nicky Bone to top, to dump the hash in.
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My partners, they be askin': Mr. Y-U-K,
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Why you stay high off the hash and be smashin'?
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With a hundred gun and a hundred click.
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To the sto', they get phillies.
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To we get blunted as we want to get.
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[Chorus]
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I takes my gat with a phillie, I don't need no quote.
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Now boss player, this is how I like to blow my smoke.
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I grab the phillie, cut the throat, jump to the back
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Of a building, top player, makin' a little bits with a cup up of spit.
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It makes me sick and upset when it's spit and silly.
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Whenever you phillie, its all spitty and wet.
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It doesn't matter, rich or po', I couldn't care less, bro.
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It mixes when I'm out and let the motherfucker smoke no ho.
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I shake the bud, mary-tramps, the one that tried to shove the weed up the fifth,
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Without givin' up no cocker food stamps.
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I know they want it, but smokin' for free, I don't condone it.
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Don't put your crusty lips on it if you ain't got no chips on it.
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I spent a grip on it, and girl, the cuffs out here.
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And if you floss out here, you take a loss out here.
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You're doin' too much catin' in the cypher wit'cha.
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Lighter, tryin' to flick your big, if you ain't got no skits, you can't get hit.
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[Chorus]
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How many blunts do you blow on the daily?
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Many money, I blow many, many, many.
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I smoke plenty. (Well, won't your black ass quit being stingy?)
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I'm not greedy. (Well, where's that weed fiend?)
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(You better quit smokin' those beadys in my fo', hun.)
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(Blow one for the po' one.)
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(Nigga, don't you owe one? Act like ya know one.)
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No one does it better, break it down with my thumbs.
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(Fuck the zigzags, and stack your lungs, make the runs.)
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But no fund, no gas money.
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(Well, even if a dummy has money.)
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(He'll be a dumber dummy then bin his ass money.)
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My blunt is my keeper, like cash money.
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Blast money, stash money, the last money was considered.
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Bombs, stick, green grass money.
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Roll, but next time, I'm a put a little to the side. (Hash money.)
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Hey nigga, I started smellin' weed and hella weed,
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Then I started sellin' weed.
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Bitch be tellin' me, they want to smoke.
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To catch Mozik than a spellin' bee,
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'Cause I smoke they ass under the table.
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The hos' stable, pass me that cigarette or phillie.
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I got that feelin' again, let's smoke that acrylin'.
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Again, I said you willin' again, then we can walk the Poppa-ceiling again.
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I storms in like a mighty blast of wind.
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Inhale, exhale, the phillies rule my dome an'... (Aaahhh!)
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(High powered shit, tell that nigga down the road to roll the shit up, man.)
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(Man, why'all niggas need to quit this shit.)
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(Nigga, you used to smoke too, more than me here, hit this shit.)
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(Man, you already know do'.)
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Fuck around and smoke the sprayed up.
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Nigga be laid up, walk around like zombies, minds never made up.
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Smellin' like ass hemp's and grine, cocky mouth.
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Chap lips, fuckin' off all the poo-nanny.
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If why'all gonna smoke, I'll be the designated weed roller.
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Call me Numboy, the motherfuckin' seed roller.
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But you gotta crack the window, though,
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'Cause me and the lads like Whoopi Goldberg, in centerfolds.
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Drink-a-lot, never like to think-a-lot.
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Nigga, I don't smoke no more 'cause I don't like the stank-a-lot.
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Nigga, I'm drink-a-lot, smoke-a-lot too, nigga.
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Fuck, how you gonna say that shit, nigga, if you be smokin' cigarettes? (Fuck y'all.)
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And me nigga. (I want to get blunted, my brother.)
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You know phillies, they give heart attack, catch a nigga.
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Fuck you nigga, shitty ass niggas. (Fuck you, nigga.)
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Smell like straight dookie.
Luniz - I Got 5 On It
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