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Kottonmouth Kings




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  K  →  Kottonmouth Kings  →  Albums  →  Royal Highness

Kottonmouth Kings Album


Royal Highness (1998)
1998
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. . .



My mission: the commission of the dishin out for facts
Cuz when I'm dimin' my rhymin never slacks, never lacks
So get back to the basics and face it.
The American dream aint what it seems
With lies they've laced it. Can't you taste it?
See they baste it in an imitation butter.
We've ate it and realized its not nature to mother
Generic like no other, man, fuck big brotha!

The Kottonmouth King klick. Are you blind or somethin?
Are you blind to the facts? You think that this system,
That this society, sees any other color other than green?
Well it's all slave-driven. The illusion of ownership in America
Property is theft, that's how we livin'

The bong tokin' alcoholics
Gettin bent every night is the thing we do
Wakin' up every day in the afternoon.
I crawl out the bed on the way to the shower
Gotta hurry up I got a date in an hour.
Call my boy X on the shower phone.
"What's up, Saint? Man, I'm stoned alone
By the way I got the freaks on point
Call up the krew, hook it up. Lata."
I hung up with X and gave my boys a holla.
D-loc picked up said "What's up balla?"
Just droppin a dime and time about this party
There'll be a lotta beer and some naughty hotties
I'll call Bobby let him know the plan,
And we'll bounce through in the nitrate van.
We'll take a road trip, 40-sip on the way
Oh yeah X commin' through with some freaks from the Bay

Bong tokin alcoholics, the Kottonmouth tilt is what we call it,
The bong tokin alcoholics, step back I'm bout to crack
Legalize it!
The bong tokin alcoholics (repeat)

We drank up a fifth and sparked a bowl
Humble Gods on the radio bumpin' real low.
I reach into the back and pull out the 64,
I took it to the head like a mothafuckin' pro
Yo, that drink got me on tilt,
Ya better sit down cuz you about to spill
Now we approach up on the corner of the house party
I'm down, I'm told...?
Conversation with the krew, I thought you knew to pass the brew
Tasted kinda freaked, Saint your ass is through
Break out the beer bong man, I wanna get faded
Cuz drinkin' out the bottle is just so overrated,
We got the 22, we're fillin' up on Mickeys
Now what's up you drunk bitch? You spillin' on my Dickies
Well boost up the bass, go easy on the treble
And let 'em all know that we some psycho rebels
With our pants saggin', skates in our hand
With our pants saggin', skates in our hand
With our pants saggin', skates in our hand
Now we're rollin' 3 deep and we don't give a damn
Bong tokin alcoholics, the Kottonmouth tilt is what we call it
The bong tokin alcoholics, step back I'm bout to crack
Legalize it!
The bong tokin alcoholics (repeat)

I got the blunts and I got the beer
Daddy X hits skins in the rear view mirror
We walked up to the spot, the keg's our destination
Cuz runnin' local parties is a nightly occupation
I went to get a beer, felt a finger in my back
"Hey I like your shirt", yeah I see it is quite phat
But no time to mack cuz Saint's drunk as hell
He was standin' on the table and he started to yell,
"All the freaks up in the party, move around and shake your body
And if you're down with the boys of P-Town
Lemme see somebody get naughty.
Is the west coast in the house?
Then pick it up, pick it up, pick it up!"
Well get naughty they did and these girls start to strip,
Started freakin' on my shit and her boyfriend tried to trip
I said "You talk shit, punk? Let's step outside"
He put his fists up, I put em on his eye
He got a left to the cheek, skateboard to the dome,
I busted out the (?) and took his girlie home

Bong tokin alcoholics, the Kottonmouth tilt is what we call it,
The bong tokin alcoholics, step back I'm bout to crack
Legalize it!

. . .



Kottonmouth Kings don't stand for a gang
Kottonmouth Kings just let the nuts hang
Everyday thing how we hang, how we hang
Kottonmouth Kings just do their own thing

This the type of thing that we be doin' everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi didi dodi day
Make some room so these players can play
So we can play on, play on

Now I woke up this morning and I thought about Hoss
Smoked a cigarette and I chucked my dirty drawers
Threw on some Dickies and I grabbed my back chain
Slapped it down my waist and I let my pants hang
Beanie on my head just to cover up my lump
The night before got in a fight just cause I was drunk
Grabbed my sack of weed and I loaded up the bong
Took a rip held it in then I coughed up a lung
Burn some incense so I can cover up the smell
An everyday thing that I live to tell
Pulled out my Black Flys, covered up my red eyes
If that copper pulls me over well its lies, lies, lies
Dirty copper, dirty copper, dirty copper

Now the stereo is on and the CD was bumpin'
Insane Clown Posse talkin' bout chicken huntin'
Walked up to the fridge, opened it up and grabbed my brew
Picked up the phone dialed my pimp and called the crew
Party later on, over by river jetties
56th Street so you know there'll be some betties
Pacific Coast Highway takes me to my destination
Party time baby, its a nightly occupation
Stepped out the pad, walked in the player's den
On the way mail a letter to my brother in the pen
There's a smile on your face from my smooth dub style
See you later alligator, after a while crocodile

Now a new day dawned, lets get things started
Hit the bong, wrote a song, took a piss and farted
Dip my blue jeans in some bleach and starches
Mobbin' OC we need the golden arches
D-Loc where you at?
Saint's hung over and he started to yack
Kicked out of Mickey D's cuz we don't know how to act
Lets call up Kevin Zinger hook a forty sack
Now tonight's the night like DJ Quik
At least 3 parties that we gotta hit
And if the cops show up were gonna start some shit
Riot time baby-Kottonmouth Klick
Punk rock music homegrown in OC
Adolescents, Doggy Style, DI and Social D
No Doubt, Agent Orange now the PTB
The last generation of the dynasty
Now the skates in the sack lets hit the ditch
Broke up with my girlie cause the ho was a bitch
Still that boy that be puttin' it down
Representin' OC, P-Town

This the type of thing that we be doin' everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi didi dodi day
Make some room so these players can play
So we can play on play on

Brought the 77 slant nose V-dub Bug
Leaks oil but the roads (?)called it crazy (mug?)
Its a little noisy but inside its all good
Got two 15's underneath the hood
Well I was rollin' down Yorba Linda Blvd.
Got the neighborhoods bumpin', tainted hard
Dodgin' and weavin' down suburban streets
Till this one house wife started bitchin' at me
So I pulled the bug over and I revved it up
First gear lit em up, then I backed it up
Over the curb, told her to kiss my ass
Gave her the bird, boned out on that ass
Back on the mission to score a sack
77 boned out passed the Cadillac
Heard a horn honk it was full of freaks
Ladies on my tip cause I'm so unique
Turn the bass high and I tilted my lid
I'm used to gettin' jocked, I'm that P-Town kid
And you know I'm doin' shit that you wish you did
Dip right goin' 30 around the corner I slid
Stopped at the school jumped on my skate
4 freaks showed up, one I use to date
They broke out the blunt and they got me stoned
Another day gone, so long, so long

This the type of thing that we be doin' everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi day
Make some room so these players can play
So we can play on, play on

(We don't let them know?) that we smoke out everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi day
Bring a fat sack so the homies can blaze
So we can blaze on, blaze on

Didi dodi didi dodi day
Didi dodi didi dodi day
Play on Blaze on
Blaze on Play on
Play on Blaze on

. . .



Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems

The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Now my pops bought the system, American dreamer
Bought a new home and a brand new Beamer
But it didn't long for things things to fall apart
Because the system that he bought aint got no heart
From the bills for days he got blood shot eyes
The American dream was a pack of lies
6 months later Municipal court
Divorce time baby, child support
I went from home cooked meals to TV dinners
No more little Steven, now it's Saint Dogg the sinner
There's no cash back cause there was no receipt
Man suburban life aint done a dime for me

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Gave in a little deeper to the third degree
More drugs, white thugs, and wannabe's
Soldiers of the burbs all feel deceived
America! What? Land of the green
Now you got problems I got mine too
There's not enough bud for the Kottonmouth Krew
Cause when we smoke we smoke to get away
To elevate from this world of hate, never perpetrate
I don't want no degree selling herbs on the burbs,
On every street
No real jobs for the PTB, So what's it gonna be?
White minority!

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Now broken homes inside every house
Neighbors yellin', can't work it out
I said beaten wives, tweaked out nights
ooh what a feeling ooh what a life
Now you cant turn back the hands of time
So let me tell you about da flyest friend of mine
He's Bobby B, king of the crops
Deep dark purse, phat drop tops
Philly blunt placed behind his ear,
Two turn tables and a Heineken beer
And this is just and everyday thing
Kottonmouth Kings telephone rings
Its X and you know he's rollin' with Saint Dog
Leapin' like some frogs trunk full of hogs
Trunk full of stakes, dirt bikes and rakes
What ever we could get we was gonna take
Just like the pirates of the Caribbean
Neighborhood watch don't like what they're seein'
Ha ha ha we got it like that
Kottonmouth rollin' deep, snatching surfboard racks

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems

. . .



Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.
So get a grip up on your shit and make sure your pipe's clean.

When I drink booze put a crown on my royal
Kottonmouth Kings make a pipe outta foil
Put a grip to my lip, dip it in honey oil.
Smoke it to the butt put it out in the soil.
Damn Saint Dog, I'm outta weed again, "I feel ya"
Pockets lookin thin aint got a dime to spend!
Big Hoss is in the pen, yes he's doing 10, "Fuck the system!"
I smoke a cigarette and try to comprehend.
Judicial system got me wishing I was president
I got a grudge against the judgment that's irrelevant.
I write a rhyme to attract and show intelligence
Shit, every other night I'm getting hella bent.
I roll my skate to relate to this society, society
No money in my pockets cause they lied to me, "lied to me too!"
No papers to my name, ya see my bong broke, bong broke
I guess that's why they call me crazy D-Loc.

Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.
So get a grip upon yo shit and make sure yo pipes clean.

When I grow buds I put keefe on my soil
Put the green in the bing then I make my water boil.
Alcohol and rice roll nice with the coil
Evian in my bong so my water don't spoil.
Damn Loc-Dog I'm outta drink again, "I feel ya!"
Buds lookin slim, I need a Heineken, "A Heineken!"
My bro's locked down doin 9 or 10, "Fuck that!"
Step back, I'm bout to crack, can you comprehend?

Placentia City got me witty on this way of life.
I (ride?) a duck, what the fuck, skin it with my knife
There's a zone in my dome called the twilight
I'm down for my crown each and every night
Well I keep my tolerance, stay inside my flow
Make ya say 'damn bro I got to go to a show'
Life aint what it seems, it aint a dream and I aint playing.
But I'm Saint Vicious and Daddy X is saying

Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.
So get a grip upon yo shit and make sure yo pipes clean.

Now when a read a mag put a grand on my royal
Government lies yo they make my water boil.
R.I.P. to my peeps 6 feet in the soil.
Riverside hometown represent, stay loyal.

No money for the skate no change for the tax
Went surfin with no keefe but forgot the sex wax.
Have a purple friend to help ya to relax.
A one foot glass called the paramax.
Now afternoon to you is my morning
I wake up hit the roach and then I'm snoring
Outta bed around 3 take 7 BT's
Like DJ Rob Harris kid I'm soarin'
I pertains an ill congested vibe
Makes ladies strive for my bozak
Addicted like prozac. You know that I track em like Lojak.
I'm slicker and quicker, I'll stick ya like Kojak.
I'm alone upon this rhyme that I've created.
This rhyme that I've inflated, wont trade it so gimme my space.
Government controls so they hated
Our life, it has been jaded and faded
We're getting erased.

Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.

. . .



It's time for 'Real Talk' with Bobby B
Attention young ladies, attention young ladies
Man homeboy's over here in the garage with 4 1000's
Powder nutrients growing in the dirt
Takin' 4 and a half months not even getting a full peak
Ya know, ya know, ya know.
In a room the size of a telephone booth
Using liquid nutrients, (buds swell rock, wool?)
One 1000 watt high pressure sodium
(kevorki?) buds the size of a fuckin' Volkswagen,
Ya know what I'm talkin' about, you do the math motherfucker.
What's up smokers?
Another suburban noize joint for you to pull on
Stoners Reeking Havoc

I'ma get you so high, I'ma make that ass fly.
Hit the bong, stand by
I'ma get you so high

Back up off me, I need room to puff
Fuck Babylon, man I can't get enough
I smoke, so I like it going down
We're all getting lifted cuz I just stole a pound
Two hits and pass, that's what Saint's yellin
Fuck that shit, I'm hittin till my mind's jelly
And when I'm done, I'll head to Flannagan's
To play some pool and that's with a couple friends

Grab a sack, it's off to a local park
Break out the bong, pack it tight and let it spark
Windows up so the bug's gettin fishbowled
And if you're in you can't escape the indo
Oh shit, it's gettin deep into my mind
I took 7 hits off that bud called kind
Close my eyes, my mind starts joggin
Here I go again, man, my mind's boggling

I'ma get you so high, mind boggling
I'ma make that ass fly, mind boggling
Hit the bong stand by, mind boggling
I'ma get you so high

Here I go reminiscing about the weekend
Takin time to remember where my shit has been
Dinner to dancing, fly girl romancing
Ballin with the homies, smoking buds and relaxin
(?) that shit is how I was smoking
Fuck this schwag weed, indo is what I'm tokin
Splif to my lips as I tilt my head back
Lookin like a mack cuz I'm down to blaze a sack
I said inhale, exhale, kottonmouth hits so I said "that's swell"
Pass a tweak to the left, party busters set in
I need some fresh air cuz I'm high off that in
Walked towards the door but man I didn't get far
High kicked in, I took a seat at the bar
As I look into the sky and the air starts fogging
Here I go again, yo my mind's boggling

I'ma get you so high, mind boggling
I'ma make that ass fly, mind boggling
Hit the bong stand by, mind boggling
I'ma get you so high

Here I go getting deeper into my mind again
Thinking bout good times, smoking kind again
By myself so you say, am I a stoner or a loner
Man I can't cope with this lil hell that I'm livin in
I got family members fiending from the cocaine
And loved ones locked up in prison
That's why I'm bailin' ya'll, man fuck the system!
all the pressures of this life get me frustrated
So I reach for the bong so I can get faded
I blaze a bowl and it take me to another level
To escape the pain and all my life's trouble
Close my eyes, pray take the pain away
Ask the lord should I live to see another day
Rob Harris died, I guess this is one of life's little tests
...take a bullet to the chest
(Money can't buy me my?) first real true love,
died at 23, now she's waitin for me up above
Get the pipe, pack it tight, start hoggin

. . .



Wasted away
Trapped in their maze
Gotta get out

My punk rock's dirty
My hip hop's clean
One side has rust the other triple beam
One side is crazy phat the other's pissed and mean
Half of me's got problems the other lives a dream
Well
I'm bI polar im confused
Split personality I dont know which to chose
One side is filthy rich the other is dirt poor
Count me out a thousand times I'll still come back for more

We barely just began but already your done
Get your ass up off the couch and roll another for fun
Cause I ain't even begun barely dented my stash
Open your eyes and grab a pipe or else it's time for you to dash
Where you gonna go when it's time to dash
Grab your sack don't forget your cash
Life moves fast gotta chose your path
Live while you live cuz it might be your last
Watch your back it might be over
Sometimes I feel bI polar
I get confused I dont know where to go
So I stop.. slow the tempo
I ain't got hours in my day to smoke with people like you
Wastin' my minutes like a cell phone that you merely abuse
With crooked views at first I questioned and these unpaid dues
Confuse me not no second guessin session veterans never lose
Grab your pipe cuz you look confused
Rockin' the mic with your unpaid dues
Life's a bitch we win or lose
How many people don't got a clue
Dont got a clue gotta figure it out
Kottonmouth Kings will put it in your mouth
Eeh haw don't feed the donkeys me and my honkeys smoke that sonkey
Yer done, go to bed, pipe it, bye

Got nothin
Got nothing to say

The world is full of sharks
The water's not that deep
A bunch of dirty sharks are snapping at my sleeve
Their poisoning my weed
I think im gonna bleed
And now im gonna jump
Well
I'm bI polar im confused
Split personality I dont know which to chose
One side is filthy rich the other is dirt poor
Count me out a thousand times I'll still come back for more

Suburbs surprise open you eyes and get a grip on your scene
Realize your life's alive and not a fairytale dream
Most comfortable with slow flow shows how I like my things
And never pass a packed bowl unless you know there's some green
Like whoa burning to the floor
I'm feelin faded give me some more
Drank a beer and rolled a spliff
I do what I do you suck my dick
If you dont like it I dont give a fuck
I just took a shit and I just threw up
Blow it out your butt and out my throat
I choke and slow the tempo
Going going gone just put it out of the park
Another win for home team just put the bite with our bark
Just brought some light to the dark another dot hit the mark
You'll never get your bowl burnin if you don't got the spark
Pick it back up cuz you might get piped
Slow your roll put your shoes on tight
Too much smokin you might get done

I'm done
Nothin no one

One side
Throw up

The other side
Full of love

How many live today got nothing but a big phat blunt

UR-done

Got nothin
Got nothing to say
Got nothin


. . .



Sick and tired, the way they walk
Sick and tired, the way they talk
Sick and tired, the things they say
Sick and tired, where's my J?
Sick and tired, same old song
Sick and tired, where's my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!

Spies are all around me, Spies in every county
Spies, my head's are bounty
Snipers in the air

The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch don't like Richter's bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...

Generation X is the title they use
When I skate down MacKenzie Avenue.
Everybody that I see is lookin at me like a vandal
Maybe cause I'm (wheelin?) in some Dickies and some sandals
Man, I know what you mean when you talk about the neighborhood
The old folks always sayin that we ain't no good
Talkin to my pops about my music
Sayin we should keep it down and not abuse it
Man, I don't sweat those old ass bastards.
I just sit on the curb and with my herb and get plastered
They work all day long, they seem so bored
I think their ass should reside in the county morgue
They're postin up signs, man I think they should chill
Talkin if I don't call the cops then my neighbor will
Cause from city to city it's all the same.
The neighborhood watch is a big ass gang

Sick and tired the way they walk,
Sick and tired the way they talk
Sick and tired the things they say, sick and tired. Where's my J?
Sick and tired, same old song, sick and tired where's my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!

Spies are all around me, Spies in every county
Spies, my head's are bounty
Snipers in the air

The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch don't like Richter's bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I think they're walkin towards me, I light another...

Every night when the street lights came on
We used to gather round, take rips from that bong.
Cause John Wayne Country, republican block
A bunch of overweight housewives that wanna be cops.
Cook and clean, the life of slave
Take Kottonmouth's advice and call Jenny Craig
It's not in my control, when we were in school
Wanna see us livin life like the golden rule
Peepin out the window, folks always looking
Minding my business when they should be cooking
Bored is how their life must be,
Wait till there's a real crime on our street
That's when, yeah they'll all run and hide
Leaving Kottonmouth behind to take the neighborhood pride
When the criminals are lying dead in the streets
Kottonmouth's returning all the stolen TVs
Yeah but that's all right, it's all good
Now you know who's watchin this neighborhood
Cause from city to city it's all the same
The neighborhood watch is a bitch ass gang


Sick and tired, the way they walk
Sick and tired, the way they talk
Sick and tired, the things they say
Sick and tired, where's my J?
Sick and tired, same old song
Sick and tired, where's my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!

Spies are all around me, Spies in every county
Spies, my head's are bounty
Snipers in the air

The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch don't likeRichter's bus.
The neighborhood watch is what they say,

. . .



Bump, bump, bump,
thats the sound of the 15's
while they hitting in my trunk
Bump, bump, bump
we're the Kottonmouth Kings
and we dont give a fuck

I'm that pig that the bitches talk about
Saints what they shout
you got all the clot
a day in the life of a kottonmouth king

. . .



Dog's Life (low)
Wise man he once told me
aint worth a roll
When our wheels keep spinning
I guess they broke the mold
I don't know
The life I lead is the life of a dog
I may have fleas but I run our yard
I see those clones looking down on me
But unlike those clones this dog is free
Oh lord it's a dogs life
Oh lord it's a dogs life dogs life
I'm feeling kinda ....
It's bubbling inside me
Straight up it's a dogs life
Way way wait
Stop that track
Lets rewind retrack pull slack and roll back
To the days when I hung with G-Mack
You got to face facts
So relap
Yo what about G-Mack?
Man it's homey Elo
Man it's cousin D-Loc
Moved into his house
And we didn't wanna be broke
So roll some smoke
I wrote rymes
Decided way back that we had good times
And we drank brews
We shot booze
Both got ladies
And broke the rules
Whether I snooze my squeeze
Clean my slate
And like a dog should
Yo I pissed on his plate
Man I' lovin southern Cali Cali
Drinkin brews in the alley
Just holding down the stages from Diego to the valley
Bustin' up my car
We gettin' lifted
As I fly goin' big at Snow Valley?
Oh lord it's a dogs life
It's a dogs life
Oh lord it's a dogs life dogs life
I'm feeling kinda ...
It's bubbling inside me
The life I lead is the life of a dog
I may have fleas but I run our yard
I aint no slave to a suit and a tie
No ratfaced clone I'll never be that guy
I aint caught up in some savage career?
I'm living in love lord not in fear I see those clones
looking down on me
But unlike those clones I man is free
Save the bone for the clones
My mentals homegrown
I'd rather be myself than live my life like a drone
If you got a job here's what i say
You'll be off to work and I'll be on my way
Skate a pipe or go dirt bike riding
You'll be punching clocks
And I'll be grinding and sliding
50-50 grinds can-cans and knack-knacks
It really don't matter cause I roam with the dog pack

Ohla in stylee these make me ...
My satisfaction when the crowd gets smiley
Behind me chanting KottonMouth Kings
Throw me on stage busting rymes blowing rings
I'm feeling kinda ....
It's bubbling inside me
Lord have mercy forgive me for my sins
I live the dogs life so how do I begin
I aint never had a dope track to write a dope rap
I started with the broke pack
Then I handled that
No full track to playback
Just my ghettoblaster I ball grip with D-Loc
Then the mic I master
Imagine I go to work on a Monday morning
While I contemplate lord what I'm doing
I might go surfing or write a song instead
I might .... or Even go back to bed
Or call down to Xland
My true bred friend
Flash the latest dub from the
Too Rude album for you
He is the man but me stylin'
But then now we're the KottonMouth Kings up on the

. . .



I said my momma don't understand me, Daddy never really cared
Fuck the rest, I've failed their test,
I guess life just ain't fair.
A preacher man done told me, said your ways you better change,
But forgive me man, I got a mic in my hand
And it's my time to rock the stage, misunderstood.

One in a million, a million in one
A stoner reeking havoc, but I don't carry a gun
Only a microphones so I can rock the stage,
Don't got a beeper But I got some pages of some dope ass lyrics
From my imagination
Smoked out the officer on my probation,
Bustin caps in the balls of this generation,
I flip this phat verse with no hesitation,
My bro Mad Dog, the south bay psycho, got the bong and bud,
(?) everlasting cycle, the dates (?) don't get no sweeter,
My boy B-Dub ain't a mother fucka tweaka,
He's a ganja man, that's the way it goes,
2 turntables always rockin' shows,
Hey Bobby B, how does your bud grow?
Shhh....That's on the down low.

I said my momma don't understand me, Daddy never really cared
Fuck the rest, I've failed their test,
I guess life just ain't fair.
A preacher man done told me, said your ways you better change,
But forgive me man, I got a mic in my hand
And it's my time to rock the stage, misunderstood.

Kottonmouth komittee made of horny devils, psycho rebels,
Bitch turn up the treble,
We wanna be heard 'cuz we speak the truth,
Yo we miss Rob Harris in the DJ booth
And that's the truth, cuz that's the roots,
We miss Rob Harris in the DJ booth.
Yo all I'm sayin' kid is the freedom of speech,
A freedom to blaze, a freedom to reach,
New plateaus are a high away,
2 joints in the morning then I'm A-OK,
I smoke two joints in the morning,
Get the vodka then I mix the OJ, okay.

I said my momma don't understand me, Daddy never really cared
Fuck the rest, I've failed their test,
I guess life just ain't fair.
A preacher man done told me, said your ways you better change,
But forgive me man, I got a mic in my hand
And it's my time to rock the stage, misunderstood.

I'm D-Loc I puff all the smoke,
Never have herbs cuz I'm always broke,
Never had a job, probably never will,
That's right Saint Dog, we kings of the hill.
I'm Saint Dog never find me trippin',
Never gun grippin', always 40 sippin'
Anarchy is the life of me, give me booze, blunts, broads
And I'll tap all three,
I got a German glow with an irie flow
You're red in the face cuz I bucked your hoe,
So what now bro? You know we told ya so,
We got more game that L.A.'s got blow
Yo my boy D-Loc got ears like a monkey,
My boy Saint Dog is a hip-hop drunkie,
DJ Bobby B gots the tracks that are funky,
If you really must know I grow my green bud skunky

I said my momma don't understand me, Daddy never really cared
Fuck the rest, I've failed their test,
I guess life just ain't fair.
A preacher man done told me, said your ways you better change,
But forgive me man, I got a mic in my hand

. . .



Yo man I got some sick ass shit, I got all kinds of bongs.
I got fuckin, I got paramaxes, I got graffix
I got all the dope shit
I got superbowls, I got fuckin skunk weed, I got skillz, listen
I'll get me on the court, you know what I'm saying? I got skillz.
Look I got crossovers, I got doms, I got lobs, I got ups
I got all kinds of skillz,
I got homeboys, I got weed, I get high. I'm fuckin
I got dope VW car with fat ass fuckin whomper, motherfucker...

I gots the light if you gots the time
I gots the joint if you gots the rhyme
I gots the ink if you gots the papers
I gots the flow if you'll catch the vapors. Crazy man.

Suburban ebonics coming out my mouth.
Take a lesson bitch boy that's Kottonmouth.
But your square nerdy asses won't understand.
So yo, break em off a fat ass piece man.
Dirt slang, it starts like this bro,
I play dunk ball with the homies and I eats pink taco
714 bustin up yo ass.
Suburban white bonics they don't teach in class.
It's the psychedelic hip hop punk rock shit.
So let me tell you mother fuckers who your fucking with.
Well I'm Saint Dog and I spills my schpeil.
When I gets lit I like to bark some shit,
Like it sucked up, cracked out, cock out biatch,
I only take licks and a (??) rip.
I got you puzzled like the wrinkles on my scrotum sac.
I got a gang a year, I keep my kicks on a rack.
From Airwalks to Bocks to Docs to Birkenstock
Top it all off with some old skool socks.
No wonder why your old lady rides my jock.
I got her tied up like a boat to a dock.
Yo I twist up your mind with my wicked hog slang.
Uck-fay ou-yay umb-day itch-bay,
Aint-say og-day ever-nay lays-pay.
Now that's the type of shit comin slurred from Saint.
Emergency, emergency 911, Kottonmouth's on the mic
So you bitches better run.

I gots the light if you gots the time
I gots the joint if you gots the rhyme
I gots the ink if you gots the papers
I gots the flow if you'll catch the vapors.

. . .



Some people like to lick it
Others crack a sack, blaze it up and kick it.
Some like to think with a drink their hand
It all depends on the ends that you're willing to spend
I need another lick, I need another lick
what's your trip?
I need another lick, I need another lick
what's your trip?

As I flow let the shit seep deep into your ear drums
Alien fly ass rhymes as you hear them
Peep this sound it's from the darkest side of the planet
A little tab of paper and I'll walk the planet
It's about to happen in the next few hours,
I've entered a world with billions of flowers
Pixies all dancing all around my head
Chillin' to the melodies of the Grateful Dead
The walls get wavy and melt like gravy
I ask myself is there something here to save me?
Oh, oh, oh shit what the fuck have I done?
A little tab of paper that I put on my tongue.
Now the demons are coming from above and beyond
(??) stabbing at my face with their (??)
I ask myself is it worth it to lick?
I guess I'm undecided
So fool what's your trip?

I need another rip, I need another rip
What's your trip?
I need another rip, I need another rip
What's your trip?
Some people like to lick it
Others crack a sack, blaze it up and kick it
Some like to think with a drink in their hand
It all depends on that ends that you're willing to spend

Do I lick or do I sip?
None of the above cause I just take rips
From a pipe, sometimes a bong
Cause it feels damn good when it lingers in my lungs
I'm a ganja man, I like a J in my hand
At all times burning so my high never lands
I'ma get you soooo high, that's what 'I'm sayin
When it comes to smokin, man I'm never playin
Just steady blazin, its amazin how I'm hazin
They never perpetrate and with the highs I'm elevating
And always skating when I get a board
When I bust an ollie my earphones (??)
And then I pick it up, and then I smoke it up
And then I smoke it to the head until I'm lifted up
No I cant deny Chinese eyed until the day that I die
I take rips, so bitch what's your trip?

I need another sip, I need another sip
What's your trip?
I need another sip, I need another sip
What's your trip?
Some people like to lick it,
Others crack a sack blaze it up and kick it
Some like to think with a drink in their hand
It all depends on the ends that you're willing to spend

You wanna know my trip?
We wanna know your trip
You wanna take a lick?
You wanna take a lick
you wanna take a rip of my trip heres a sin
Sip (sip) of some gin now give me your tip.
On point, I need a joint when I'm drinkin
Yes I'm seekin for a 40 to get my buzz peakin
Now I'm leakin all over my (self?)
What you wanna do, get another 502?
You should have eaten some food
Instead of drinkin on an empty stomach
Just don't talk cause my buzz is gettin kinda chronic
Bionic, here comes another stage,(?)
Well this is why I say not to drink while you rage
Head spins, what the fucks goin on?
Head spins, you need to stick to your bong
Well no face first, X clenching on the dirt slang
My head starts spinning (I'm about to fall in to the earth?)
My mouth starts to water, X says "Puke it out"
Fuck that shit, man that ain't what I'm about
(?????????)
Pass the malt liquor, gimme another beer
Yo yeah man that's my mother fuckin dog
SAINT DOG

Some people like to lick it,
Others crack a sack blaze it up and kick it
Some like to think with a drink in their hand,

. . .



Now, don't get me wrong the 10 Commandments is cool,
See once upon a time I too believed in the Golden Rule
Unemployment figures at an all time high
(?) nation dwindled, so the (sauté?) swindle
Got tossed the fuck out the window.
You know what I'm saying?
Kottonmouth kings still blowin smoke rings.
Keep your head up.

It's a high society

It's time for some realization,
Not fueled by media manipulations
But the manifestation of the last generation, legalization
Fuck your pensions if you're paid, pay attention
Teachers of this land, yo your all on detention
You failed to mention about this everyday struggle,
Placed me in a bubble but it popped on the double,
Now your in trouble cuz I'm older now I'm bolder now,
Bitch, I'm a soldier now
Been raised to blaze in the simple place,
Like a greyhound's race to brace this of disgrace
I've seen people starved till there no life left,
I've seen heads kicked in for the words that they said
Police crackin skulls with no questions asked,
A suicidal shot from a shotgun blast
It didn't have nothing to do with (?)
It didn't have shit to do with the ones that they dropped
It didn't have nothing to do with the land that got stole
believe me motherfucker, I see right through your mind control

I won't drown, drown, drown in your society
High times, it's a high society
Lies, lies everyone keeps tryin me
Why wont they just let me be? It's a high society

First of all lets get this straight, this systems full of shit,
They say "In God we trust", your a fuckin hypocrite
Crooked politicians lying out their ass
Money hungry whores behind the doors smokin grass
No trust in the nation, trust in the nation
Spending all the money on the fucking immigration
Walls caving in it's getting hard to breathe
51-50's what this system's done to me!

Money don't mean shit to me, it grows on evil trees
It breaks up families, it's more like a disease
Cuz it's tension, did I mention it's the governments invention,
Dollar dollar bill ya'll
Currency a money dollar for 20 bucks,
You can make somebody's daughter suck a (hooker-holla?)
Turn a boy into a baller, watch his chips stack taller,
Dollar dollar bill ya'll
You'll see all or nothin in this game of survival
Gots hustlers holdin on to the scams,
They can (watch?) their bible
But I'm viable for me to stay tribal,
And keep making these flows undeniable
But I'm viable for me to stay tribal,
And keep making these flows undeniable

I won't drown, drown, drown in your society
High times, it's a high society
Lies, lies everyone keeps tryin me
Why wont they just let me be? It's a high society

Now a nation that's stolen, can never be golden
Compassion's not true in, in this (shallow amount?) of ruin.
Modern industry, the industrial complex
A system of no balance, and not enough checks
Disease bred, transmitted through sex
Revelation (to for wishin'?)
Can you pay the tuition? Can you make the grade ?
Is life really all about getting paid?
Money can't buy nothing buried in a grave
Slave driven, unforgiven
The more you make, the better your livin'
So it's all role-playin, playing roles, grave diggers diggin' holes
Genetics strange, passed down through years of pain
So the cure you seek for the mentally weak is just the norm

. . .



This is Kona-Gold from the Hawaiian Islands of creation,
Mass plantation
With the kottonmouth kings burnin up the nation.

Don't watch your back cause we're comin through front
And when we're on stage yeah we're smokin like a blunt
My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
We're the Kottonmouth Kings, we're kickin psychedelic funk
Puffin on a blunt, indo, schwag, or skunk
Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk

Shit its a damn good day, got money in the bank,
Cash in my tank, pays for my dank
Got a new Paramax, money for the taxes,
And for the plenty herb the lord I do thank

Boom, shit, bang, X is the name
Dirt slang's the game and I bang poontang
It's the first county all league pimp selection,
Bobby B's on the mix with the vinyl injection
I went from sinner to Saint, Saint back to sinner
Once was a preacher, but I huff paint thinner
Took your boo home and that bitch made me dinner
Rolled a couple phillies and I went up in her.
It's the capital D, the L-O-C
Can't nobody even fuck with me, hell no
My style is free, I bangs the P,
I tagged the circle "A" for anarchy

Don't watch your back cause we're comin through the front
And when we're on stage yeah we're smokin like a blunt
My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
We're the Kottonmouth Kings, we're kickin psychedelic funk
Puffin on a blunt, indo, swag, or skunk
Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk

Hot Damn! I'm back in my van.
Copper pulled me over, asked me what's my plan?
Been sniffin around like Toucan Sam,
WHAT? BAM BAM! Now there's bacon on the van
I said fuck the police I'm an old school skata
Pull upside the curb, throw up, peace say lata
Got a dark vibe like that fool Darth Vador,
Told you mother fuckers I'm an old school skater

I'm D-Loc so fair is fair, party over here, fuck you over there
I got a bag of bud smothered in red hair
Saint Dog started drinking so you better beware
I got so much bounce you can feel my vibration,
Easy access for easy penetration
What's all this talk about a generation? Legalize the plant
Lets free this nation

(Buyaka Buyaka?) hemp plantation
(Buyaka Buyaka?), free this nation

Don't watch your back cause we're comin through the front
And when we're on stage yeah we're smokin like a blunt
My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
We're the Kottonmouth Kings, we're kickin psychedelic funk
Puffin on a blunt indo, swag, or skunk
Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk

Now the kind I smoke is dipped in Willie Wonka
Chocolate factory, I take more hits than Tonka
Light you up like blanca, get u buzzin like a bee
We're the bong tokin fiends representin' OC
Oh oh oh shit I'm back up in the mix
Its D-loc with the grab bag of tricks
Your bitch is on my dick, your momma is too
And this is going out to the Kottonmouth krew

Damn that gets old, wearin' ties that don't fit
Dirty wife beaters, I should just quit
But I don't give a shit my rhymes make me legit
Whores in my hand as I bounce through the pit
Punk rock and I can't forget cha
Kottonmouth Kings up in the picture
Suburban noise, man I thought you knew,
And if you're down with punk rock, throw your horns up fool
Yes we're comin through with an oldie brew
West coast juggalos sayin hoodie hoo

Don't watch your back cause we're comin through the front
And when we're on stage we're smokin like a blunt
My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
We're the Kottonmouth Kings, we're kickin psychedelic funk
Puffin on a blunt indo, swag, or skunk
Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk

Scratch pow, don't ask me how
Even if I knew I wouldn't tell you any how
Take that! Let's fishbowl this bitch
What's the time? Its time to get lit
Buyaka buyaka, splif to the clip
Now the roach is lit, goes right to my lip
Inhale, hold it real deep

. . .



Oh shit God damn, I almost hit that little punk rock kid.
Oh shit, ah damn, well what's happenin here? Damn helicopters
And all I saw was some little skater kid
Come runnin by with a test tube, one of them glass ones.
Oh man, I'll check the news
And find out what the hell's happenin here. "Hola como estas?"
Fuckin commercials, damn yeah,
"This is Victoria Secretion reporting live from Orange County California,"
No shit, "where just moments ago, Officer Jack Mehoff and our
chopper in the sky Spotted rapper D-Loc, member of the infamous
Kottonmouth Kommittee,
Skating east bound on Yorba Linda Blvd.
DLoc has been at large and is wanted by press, parents, and
authorities
For being a nusiance to society. Approach with caution,
DLoc could be under the influence of a mind altering substance."

Its me and my skate, skate
In this world of hate and confusion
I sweat all day to create an illusion
Or a fantasy yeah that's what you call it
You can be a bong tokin alcoholic
Well this came true so I grip the mic tightly
And when I'm rocking the stage my skates besides me
After the show you'll catch skating in the parking lot
Bustin grinds and flips, my board is all I got
To escape the realness of reality
I smoke a joint so I can cope with this insanity
They say sobriety's the answer to society
I say its anarchy but they ain't understanding me
I say it twice but they just can't relate
I guess its fate, my boards my mate
Just, just me and my skate

"In other breaking news, reputed rapper Saint,
also from the Kottonmouth Kommitte, was caught by survalence
camera
At JJ's Liqour in the city of Orange
Making off with 2 cases of beer, 1 pint of booze, and a carton of
cigarettes.
The unemployed rapper has outstanding charges of drunken
rowdyness,
Insighting riots, and abusive behavior, Saint was last spotted on
Beach Blvd, jumping from a moving vehicle under the influence of
alcohol."

Now I just got off the phone with Big Hoss up in prison.
Thank God for freedom hook the bitches with my jism
Name is brought up in many girlies' conversations
But it gets complicated with the situations you be facin
My name is Saint, the one the girlies flock fool.
So don't get mad when your lady starts to jock me fool.
like a beer like marijuana.
She said "Hi Saint my name's Luana."
Lou wanna wanna wanna take me home?
Lou wanna wanna wanna lay and bone?
But I get aggravated, mentally frustrated
When I act like cuz your boyfriend player hated.
Left jab, right hook, then I knocked him out,
I hate player haters so I pissed in his mouth.

"Apparently local officials have turned the Kottonmouth Kommitte
case over to the Federal Bureau of Investigations.
The elusive Orange County rappers, under the direction of Pimp
Daddy X are sought in connection with a number of charges
Ranging from obsenity, influencing the minds of minors, fake
ID's, lude and crude behavior, and demoralizing society.
Right wing, religious zealots have apparently threatened to
Quote 'Crucify those young punks.' "

Yo I got a scam for this, you know I got a scam for that
The Daddy's friends are good but still I watch my back
I like to vibe, write a rhyme to a funky phat track
I got the scam to get the green to scam for a fat sack
Too many vices and insane extremities
I got no good solutions, so no quick remedies
Don't wanna slave my life working at a 9 to 5
Fuck flippin burgers don't wanna drop no fries
Don't wanna move boxes, move shit or sit behind a desk
Just wanna get upon a mic and let my skills start to flex
Addicted to the homegrown, fly girls and
I'm not a loser look at you, don't wanna be left alone
Addicted to the nicotine, a full time toker
All the more confused with mi vida loca
Late night toker, indo smokers
Hey hey daddy x, daddy x, daddy x, daddy x
Let your skills flex
Hey hey daddy x daddy x
hey daddy x, put those fools in check
Live while you live you gotta live your life while you're here
Time is all I got I wanna smoke the kind and guzzle beer
Fear of life at times yes but I ain't got no time for that
I gotta kick it chill got to kick it to the max
So when you see daddy x in your vicinity
Pass the pipe, pass the j, say "what's up?"
I'm out, peace
Me (me) me and my skate, my skate, my skate, my skate
My mate my skate
Me (me) me and my skate, my skate
My skate my mate in this world of hate

"After an all out man hunt by local and federal officials,
The Kottonmouth Kommittee still remains at large,
Last spotted fleeing southbound on Interstate 5
In a drop top Volkswagen bug, believed to be stolen from
A trailer park complex earlier today.
The young vandals are disturbing the peace, and reportedly riding
high.
That's our local news for now, we'll update you on the situation as it happens.


. . .



Watch it, watch it, watch it
Dog Boy here, and I'm singing with the Kings
Cool and (delayed?)
Sing it, comin' comin'

I be getting faded, discombobulated
Never say I made it till I'm pissin' off the top
O.C. playas, fly rhyme sayers,
Haters can't fade us cuz it's true hip-hop

MC'in is the place for me to be in,
And nut-swinging is the way that I be g'in
Never leanin' to the old, for the lyrical hold,
Keep my shit bold, more (??) I (stole?)
Fuck parol when I stroll, man I dodge five-0
I dip-dive, fuck a bribe, live to rock the show and the ho
Skip the blow, gimme the 40, yo
I like a lady down to ride it like a rodeo
You see anarchy on the (??) like a (hippie?)
(???) cuz my head's a little trippy
My bud's I like 'em sticky, so pack another rip, D
High as the plains west of the Mississippi

I be getting faded, discombobulated
Never say I made it till I'm pissin' off the top
O.C. playas, fly rhyme sayers,
Haters can't fade us cuz it's true hip-hop

Eh rude boy, lad you party nonstop,
You're the first to start, you're the last to drop
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops cuz music is our weapon
And that them can't stop

Punk rock man, let me tell my thoughts of Hoss
Hip hop freestyle, freedom of course
Ooh, my old girl Mary better known as a swag-hag
Every other night she had me out buying dime bags
A dime to a twenty, to a forty, to an eighty
I switched to homegrown now I puff at Bobby B's, y'all

I be getting faded, discombobulated
Never say I made it till I'm pissin' off the top
O.C. playas, fly rhyme sayers,
They just can't fade us cuz it's true hip-hop

Eh rude boy, lad you party nonstop,
You're the first to start, you're the last to drop
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops cuz music is our weapon
And that them can't stop

Check your traits, you perpetrate I can't relate
Your mental mind state is far to overrate, you can't skate
Don't sit and debate, you need to skip the (??),
Ask Jesus Christ to clean the slate
I think it's fate, I ain't done yet so wait
Your philosophies- pale and underweight, they're out of date
One mo' thing, and then we're straight, put the fake to sleep
And then I catch you at the wake
And then we'll bake, and once again try to relate
Hopefully the good will win, you'll lose the hate
That's a close, I think we''re up to date
Wake up young chump, get a grip, checkmate

Sound boy, you should've thanked the Saint
He just saved your life from a terrible thing
Sound boy, Saint just put you in check,
He set you straight to save your own neck

I be getting faded, discombobulated
Never say I made it till I'm pissin' off the top
O.C. playas, fly rhyme sayers,
They just can't fade us cuz it's true hip-hop

Oh, Lord have mercy. Lord have mercy
Singing with the Kings up on the record version
Eh rude boy, I say you party nonstop,
You're the first to start, you're the last to drop
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops cuz music is our weapon
And that them can't stop
Shucka shucka to all the rude boys,
Shucka shucka to Suburban Noize
Coming in unity, like one big family,
Every (??) gonna make you feel so irie
It's Dog Boy, you know me chat nonstop,
Seeking the roots rub-a-dub, ragamuffin punk rock
It's Dog Boy, kickin down your shit
From your microphone, ear, to your consolate
Like the black flag son we're gonna rise above,
Every time we're coming with respect and love
I am the one Dog-Boy from L.A., CA
In the name of unity I (??) must say
From London, to Kingston, from the South Bay,
All me out to do is flash my stylee
Now I am a-comin' and I'm (??), little sound boy with no solution
Check the (bag?), with just one flow
You may find you don't need a ego
It's Dog Boy, you know me chat nonstop
With the roots rub-a-dub, ragamuffin punk rock
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops, music is our weapon

. . .



Life ain't funny when you ain't got no money
And that clock strikes 4:20 and you wanna get high
No bills get sent and you can't pay the rent
Everyday I get bent yo, so that I can get by
On and ontaking rips from the bong
Planet Budtron, BSO stay on
Kottonmouth Kings got them dope tracks
1605, yes they got my back
I'm buckin your booze cause you smoke crack
I get the munchies and I eat a greasy Big Mac
Finding me smoked out ain't unlikely
That's why my homies call me D to L-O-C
You'll catch me at a party deep in OC
Representing that punk rock stylee
When I'm on the mic I make the crowd move
To escape reality I bust my own groove
Ladies on the floor say you're so smooth
I wink my eyes in reply, they says "Real cool"
Life ladies wouldn't understand me
Sense coincide to be in anarchy?
Skate in my hand cause I'm like that
Bust a circle off the curb cause I'm real phat

Life ain't funny when you ain't got no money
And that clock strikes 4:20 and you wanna get high
No bills get sent and you can't pay the rent
Everyday I get bent yo, so that I can get by
On and on taking rips from the bong
Planet Budtron, BSO stay on

I'm D Loc, go ape like shit
Smoke bud with the king click
Don't trip, but addicted full throne
Cant stop smokin that homegrown
I got a fat blown acre out in Riverside
Hall brooke locals, the kings reside
E Loc, G Mac, Big Hoss in the pen
BJ, Gweedo, and my boy Efrem
I go coocoo for cocoa, chocolate thai
Smoke bud till I die, if you wonder why
Stay high like a black fly
And then I sigh, buzzin like a busy
Biz-I bye bye bye bye

Life ain't funny when you ain't got no money
And that clock strikes 4:20 and you wanna get high
No bills get sent and you can't pay the rent
Everyday I get bent yo, so that I can get by
On and on taking rips from the bong
Planet Budtron,BSO stay on

Saint Vicious pay attention let me educate
I break tapper in the gut of this legislate
Push em tap and I watch em slowly drain out
Lies lies lies is what I'm talkin about
Not old school like I'm used to
Kottonmouth Kings just broke through
Psychedelic hip hop punk rock shit
So back the hell up
You get smacked in your lip
Saint Dog quit I'm from the old school
I'm blockin half pipes here to skate to
Launch rip rail slide slid it real smooth
No skateboard but it was still cool

Chorus

This has been the Kottonmouth Kings
Transmitting live from planet budtron
With fellow B at the helm
High at the Argon House
Bobby B
Saint Vicious
D Loc
And I'm Daddy
Sayin work hard
Play hard
And skate hard
Oh, and ah one more thing

. . .


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