Yo, you gots the joint? Nah, I got the joint Yo, who's got the joint? We all got the joint We all on point, we all on point Yo, you gots the Joint? Nah, I got the joint
Where and when, it probably fell out your ear I'ma look behind the couch, finding all kinds of shit Hair pins, erasers, crumbled up pieces of paper Broken pagers, and a half pack of grits
Cuz I slipped on my floor walking up the stairs Could still be camouflaged, hidin' in my hair Behind my ear nestled in the back, but it ain't I know because I checked, I'm still searchin' for the dank
You probably threw it out with your old pack of cigarettes Look in the trash can, your as high as you get Sometimes you forget, smokin' one to many hits About to look in my caddy, down the walkway bricks
I jumped out the screen door, mac light in hand Searchin' down the sidewalk, leadin' to my van I hit the alarm and the door just slides I check from front to back and side to side
Then I let the Alpine play Got the 6 disc changer, read-out display, Called my boy Dave, who gets paid to skate Bling, hello, I think it fell by your gate
Well it's not in my van, so I checked my jeep Limited edition 4x4 with leather seats Looked in the ashtray and only found a roach I was so fuckin' high I forgot that we had smoked
Yo, you gots the joint? Nah, I got the joint Yo, who's got the joint? We all got the joint We all on point, we all on point Yo, you gots the Joint? Nah, I got the joint
I got the joint, but you ain't gonna smoke it Come around get cloudy, it disappeared like hokus pokus King klick tokas, royalty smokers Come around it disappears like hokus pokus
I'm gettin' amped up, in different states of mind I hit a depth for a track as I prepare my rhyme, Sometimes I'm real high, besides I don't lie Look at all these phony people tryin to make supply Yeah, you sly in your flashy suits You sellouts get the fuck outta here, bail out I sag my jeans, rock hemp and (??) I got a 85 caddy, give a fuck about the billboard You live at large with your three car garage Your Ferrari, BM, and Lamborgini coutures I smoke hard, blow large, keep you guessin Up in the treehouse, like a bird, nestin Loungin, you'll be amazed how I'm steppin It's a blessin, lookin' over my ground Eyes like a owl head, rotates around 360 degrees in a circle
Yo, you gots the joint? Nah, I got the joint Yo, who's got the joint? We all got the joint We all on point, we all on point Yo, you gots the Joint? Nah, I got the joint
Yo I got the joint and it's rolled with precision Precisely sliced in the ends, surgical incisions It's like religion, my blunt rollin' routine It's a process, and yet it comes guaranteed, by me (by who?) Motherfuckin' Johnny Richter If you lay on the work then call me Johnny the evictor To play with my money is to play with my emotions Like tokens in Vegas, your ass is cash
I got incredible dank, as it lingers out the chamber Mind blowin smoke, unbelievable taste Jack frost have you lost, seeing stars in space Laced up to the moon, Pluto, then Neptune The earth is greenest, smokin' bong loads in Venus The rings of Saturn gettin' lost in space Homebase it the place we blaze the most weed I gots the joint is the bomb ass (??)
Yo, you gots the joint? Nah, I got the joint Yo, who's got the joint? We all got the joint We all on point, we all on point Yo, you gots the Joint? Nah, I got the joint
Just a player with the big hair, baby (??) five Still bumpin, getting high, constantly red eyed 12-28, full of bitches i