Oooh / Ghost Weed Skit 01

Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled
 Get your ass up, and let's get ill
 That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin' your bluff
 And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)
 Yo, don't scandalize
 Mine, I spent too much time
 Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk
 Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?
 Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear
 Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare
 While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)
 Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three
 Coats for both child, woman and man
 God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall
 It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
 Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique
 It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
 It ain't my fault
 Your ass is on the asphalt, got your chin touched
 By my fam who though you brought harm, you see
 I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet
 Oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me
 Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D
 Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since
 Luke was Luke Skywalk', man, my
 Topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game
 Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the
 Past drug, a life filled with (*GUNS*)
 That's what thugs love, snatch you fast, wrap that ass
 In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice
 Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold
 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up, we run up a tab
 And gladly add a little extra for miss
 Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss
 Most crews are post-current while we're forever
 Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages
 Graduated from the you-and-I-versity
 Of hard-hitters, for real
 Yo, I got niggas
 In the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and get
 Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight
 Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound
 Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down
 Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong
 I had plans to buy more land, plant corn
 Bust kernels on heat, work hard like ___backs
 Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile
 Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat
 Big money's make the big decisions, keep hip-hop
 Alive, it's just an intermission
 Back to the second half of the feature flick
 Dick stacks and fuck rap.
 I had a name for makin' paper
 Since papier-mâché
 Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play
 While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker
 You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor
 Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it
 Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it
 Rap cats talk with no will in it
 Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo
 Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed
 (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job, took all the goodies
 Out from under the tree, except the CD's
 Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' emcees
 Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees
 Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes
 You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon'
 Relax your mind, let your conscious be free
 Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go
 Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go
 Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go
 Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke
 Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!
 (*Adjusting Radio dial)
 Hey hip hoppers, tired of that old trend of ghost writers?
 Well here's the newest sensation that's sweepin the nation
 GHOST WEED GHOST WEEEED
 Hey ballers, ballettes, thugs, chickenheads
 Take a listen to how Ghost Weed will help you kick it
 Like your favorite rapper
 Just a couple of hits and (PUFF PUFF) it's gangster.
 Watch how we secretly sabotage this cypher with Ghost Weed
 Step back off me, I got Pharoahe Monch
 Yo you need to take some more son
 Yo I take another hit?
 Oh Shit
 That's that fire shit
 Yo yall gon let me get busy?
 Yo I wanna hear you rhyme
 I'm ready drop that beat
 How many niggas who actually kill still rhymin?
 How many niggas who are actually signed still killin?
 And when it comes to killin a mic they aint willin
 And im supposed to be shook, that's the shit that kills me
 Take a bullet for X in the ballroom and then vanish, extinguish
 To someone I drew
 Play pool with the planets
 Lyrics, outlandish
 My shits straight from the soul, god dammit
 It's the one time only
 Vernacular original, spectacular miraculous flow
 Computer digital
 I ridicule the pitiful
 Piss upon the miniscule
 Pharoahe Monch better park that ass like municipal
 YO
 You ripped that shit
 You ripped that shit kid
 Way out of control, yo
 You kinda had that
 It was the weed, it was the trees
 GHOST WEED!