Must Be the Ganja

Yeah, oh, oh, yeah, yeah

Oh, I feel like dancing

I feel like dancing

I smell something in the air that's makin' me high

I said, I smell something in the air that's makin' me high

Okay, here we go, do re mi fa so, fa so la ti da so

Lyrical Rosco, kick back the Tabasco

You motherfuckers must just not know the tic-tock so

Time to show you the most kick ass flow in the cosmos

Picasso with a pick ax, a sick asshole

Tic-tac-toe frozen six pack, with exacto

Knives, stranglin' wives with thick lasso

Big bags of the grass, zig zags, I'm with the Doc, so

You know how that go, skull and the crossbones

This is poison, the boys and girls who do not know

You do not wanna try this at home, my novato

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

About time that you wake the fuck up, smell the pot smoke

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana

That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high

Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever's gotten into me, I don't mind

I said it's the ganja, it's the marijuana

That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high

Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever's got into me, I don't mind

Your dreams are getting' fulfilled, ooh, I'm literally getting' the chills

Spittin' 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 Llama

And be calm or bring drama a step beyond a Jeffrey Dahmer

Please, don't upset me, mama, you lookin' sexy, mama

Don't know if it's the lala or the rum and Pepsi, mama

Don't want to end up inside my refrigerator freezer

Be used as extra toppin' the next time I make a pizza

How many people you know 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 model, 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 fuckin' night's just begun

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana

That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high

Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

I said its the ganja, it's the marijuana

That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high

Maybe it's the Hindi 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

You're stuck with the same stick that you're tryin' 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 them some

Get behind a Lynn drum, make up a beat and kill the sucka syndrome

The spinning drama when it comes to lyrics and pennin' some

Starting from scratch and then endin' up at the end enough

Capable of bringin' a Pulitzer, strong believe a bullet's a

Titanium, cranium that's full of surprises

When the smoke rises right before your very own eyes

You stare into your stereos high

Good evenin', this isn't even a weed thing

I ain't even smoke anything, I ain't even drinking

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana

That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high

Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

I said it's the ganja, it's the marijuana

That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high

Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever's got into me I don't mind