Chronic

(Smoke, smoke, smoke

Smoke, smoke, smoke)

(Roll it up, roll it up

Roll it up, roll it up, roll it up)

(Herb)

(Take a hit)

(California marijuana)

(Smoke a lot)

(Chorus 2x):

It's the chronic

Marijuana

I think I want a hit

Take a trip, a sip of bomb

Come along

It's just an herb

Mind's eye opened wide

Come inside

No need to hide

(Eligh)

It's just the chronic

Chronic moment

It's like the omen

Givin' birth inside your chest

Invest some time in knowing

What the herb can do to a man's soul

When inhaled it takes the rest

He's impaled

It'll leave a person on top

Of a telephone pole

With Hekyll and Jekyll

I know many men

Who have sold

The secret medium my way

I light that bowl

And lose control of tracks

Constructed by the conductor

Never stuck in a permanent high

I float around my way

Wings and things help me

To the next plateau I go

Way too intense

With dense ideas I never change

I flow rivers of ancient

Teleportations sent to the nation

Vis-à-vis via satellite

Ear to ear from here to there

They feel the beat

Don't be shy

I'm really a quiet guy

Just try

Look what it does

For an introvert

I flirt with Mary Jane

And burn her body

For the feeling in a pipe

I won't complain

Marijuana

I think I need a hit

I take a trip, a sip of bomb

Come along

It's just an herb

Mind's eye opened wide

Come inside

No need to hide

(Chorus)

It's just a

Crowded room full of people

Having tripped out conversations

No one's up to getting over the edge

That last hit dropped the eggs

From my basket

Now I'm asking

"Dude, let's let's go outside real quick"

"Man, what's wrong with you, man?"

"Man let's just go outside real quick

Fuck it

I'm fucked up, dude."

"Aight, aight" (Paranoid, paranoid)

(Go outside real quick

go outside real quick)

"Let's go smoke"

Paranoid, pacing outside

Waiting for a cigarette

To bring down my high

Beware, boy, the one drunk punk

Hey I can with endurance

When he talks he doesn't give a fuck

Swing low, I crouch down below

Should have left the last hit

To the homie with the tolerance

Mary Jane's the bitch they pitch

When slangin' bags for back support

Barely sane I hand them twenty

That'll be plenty

Relax and sport that sack in the back

When the show's in progress

My heart's pressed against my chest

And the mic's in hand

I bite my bottom lip

And watch them trip

I'm ripped

(What're they sayin'?)

(Pass the blunt to the left-hand side

Pass the blunt to the left-hand side

Pass the blunt to the left-hand side)

(Roll it in the ??? Roll it in the ???

Roll it in the ??? Blow it out the ???) (2x)

Open mind, open lungs, open eyes, open hands

To hold the bowl, hold for the urn

Turn to ashes and urn

Earn your keep, or Mary won't have nowhere to sleep

There's something about Mary I can't seem to keep

Stick to the beats of the midnight hours

Smokin' a bowl before I go

In slo-mo creepin' around the bend

Not a snake in the grass so I fiend for green

Call me a fan with a hand on the pipe

Who like the smell, what the hell

Like's the felling, what you dealin'?

(Marijuana)

(Chorus 2x)

It's just the chronic

(Marijuana)

(Smoke some green)