Some people say,
I sound like B-Real, from Cypress Hill.
Like I'm here to steal. I'll get killed.
Ya need to chill homie this is how I get ill.
This is the underground sound that I feel,
These dog pound cats are the real deal.

Me and Louis...
We got a lot in common see.
I was raised in Signal Hill.
I'm from the L.B.C.
I'm from a rough side of town, like
Snoop D O double G.
I started cultivating weed, now I'm
gettin' high for free.

Got no time for a gangsters paradise...
It just don't mean that much to me.
Everyone knows that a studio
gangster is a Hollywood actor,
Not a true G.

I'm not trying to write a diss on any
real thugs that are down.
How are ya gonna take life advise
from a Detroit wicked clown.

I got no fukkin' problem with the
Temple of Boom.
That shit was really bumpin' like the
neighbors fukkin' broom.
I'm in my room, and I'm about to light a
joint.
I'm thumpin' hits from the bong,
but lemme get to the point.

You see, this is how I do when I got
bag of weed.
No stems and seed...
It's just all purple and green.

We all get down with the sticky icky see.
So won't ya take a hit and fukk this track
up with me.

{Mary's Chorus}

Mary gets me horny. Mary gets me high.
Mary never bores me, she keeps me satisfied.
Mary is my lover and yes, Mary is my friend.
Come on with me Mary.
Let's go get stoned again.

Relax, It's o.k.
I'm just being real. Go take a pill.
Get a drink with your Happy Meal,
but don't spill.
Gimme what's in the till homie...
this is only a drill.
These mother fukkers chased me all
the way to Brazil.
How many beats do I have to kill?

This genre's a beast.
It feeds on a lot of em-cees.
In a state of euphoria,
Everyone's got the disease.
I stand tough amoungst the brown,
because I understand the plight.
I don't fukk around when it comes
down to a fight.

I got my swagger back in Eighty-Five.
Hip Hop made great company.
U.T.F.O. kept me alive, before
gangster rap hit the scene.

I'm not tryin' to reminisce about when
Eric was around.
I guess I miss the way the Eighty's
Hip Hop used to sound.
I got no beef with no one, gonna
stay above the ground.
But if you want, I can teach you son...
I'm a southpaw pitcher on the mound.

I was fukkin' ballin' smokin weed
in my room.
The fukkin' cops got called because I
threw a harpoon.
I was shootin' for the moon, about to
finish a joint.
I'll put it in my song, but let me get to
the point, see...

This is what they do when you're
just smokin' on your weed.
No crack or speed.
Just reds, purples and greens.

Sometimes ya gotta run when you're
trying to be free.
Now I got the po lice comin' after me.

{Mary's Chorus}

Mary gets me horny. Mary gets me high.
Mary never bores me, she keeps me satisfied.
Mary is my lover and yes, Mary is my friend.
Come on with me Mary.
Let's go get stoned again.

Written by: Michael W. Taylor
February 4th 2023©
© Michael W. Taylor