Must be the Ganja by Eminem.
Yea, (oh, oh), yea yea, oh I feel like dancing I feel like dancing
I smell something in the air that’s making me (high)
I said I smell something in the air that’s making me high
OK here we go, do-re-mi-fa-so, fa so la-di-da so
Lyrical roscoe, give back the tobasco
You motherfuckers must just not know the tic tac so
Time to show you the most kick ass flow in the cosmos
Picasso with a pick axe a sick asshole
tic tac toe frozen six pack with exacto
Knives, strangling wives with pig lasso
three bags of the the grass, zig zags, I’m with the doc so
You know how that go, skull and the crossbones
This is poison, to boys and girls who do not know
You do not want to try this at home my little vato
This is neither the time nor the place to get macho
So crack a six pack, sit back with some nachos
Maybe some popcorn, and watch the show and just rock slow
It’s not what you expected, nor what you thought so
Bout time to you wake the fuck up smell the pot smoke
[2x]
It must be the ganja
It’s the marijuana that’s creeping upon me while I’m so high
Maybe it’s the Henny that has gotten in me
Whatever’s got into me I don’t mind
Your dreams are getting fulfilled, oh I’m literally getting the chills.
Spitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pill
You’re submitting to skill, sitting still, I’m admitting, I’m beginning to feel
Like I don’t think anyone’s real,
Faced with a dilemma, I can be Dalai Lama and become a bin gramma a step beyond a Jeffrey Dahmer
Please don’t upset me mama, you looking sexy mama,
Don’t know if this the lala or the rum and Pepsi mama
Don’t want to end up inside my refrigerator freezer,
Be used as extra topping the next time I make a pizza
How many people you know who can name every serial killer who ever existed in a row,
Put em in chronological order beginning with Jack the Ripper,
Name the time and place from the body the bag the zipper,
Location of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped,
The trunk that they were stuffed in, the model the make the plate
And which motel which lake they found her in,
And how they attacked the victim,
Say which murder weapon was used to do what and which one,
Which knife and which gun, what kid what wife and which nun,
Don’t stop, I like this, it’s fun, the fucking nights just begun
[2x]
It must be the ganja
It’s the marijuana that’s creeping upon me while I’m so high
Maybe it’s the Henny that has gotten in me
Whatever’s got into me I don’t mind
When I’m behind a mic dynamite is what it’s kinda like
Get stuck with that same stick that you’re trying to light
Behind the boards is Dre, legends are made this way
Isn’t it safe to say, this is the way it should be?
Maybe you need some lyric syrup serum for your symptoms
Here’s a dosage of the antidote now you give him some,
He can give her some, she can give him some
Get behind a lynn drum, make up a beat and kill the sucker syndrome
You’re spitting drama when it comes to lyrics and penance I’m
Starting from scratch and then ending up at the end ending up
Capable of bringing a bullets a still unbelievable bullets a Titanium cranium that’s full of surprises
When the smoke rises right before your very own eyes
You stare into your stereos eyes
Good evening, this isn’t even a weed thing,
I ain’t even smoke anything, I ain’t even drinking
[2x]
It must be the ganja
It’s the marijuana that’s creeping upon me while I’m so high
Maybe it’s the Henny that has gotten in me
Whatever’s got into me I don’t mind
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