Текст песни Eminem - Must Be the Ganja

Yeah, (oh, oh), yeah yeah, oh I feel like dancing, I feel like dancingI smell something in the air that's making me (high)I said I smell something in the air that's making me highOk here we go, do-re-mi-fa-so, I'm so la-di-da soLyrical rise flow, give back the tobascoYou mother fuckers mustsanot know the tic tac songsTime to show you the mo kick ass flow in the cosmosPicasso with a pick axe a sick assholeShe tac toe frozen six pack with exactoKnives, strangling wives with pig lassoFew bags of the the grass, zig zags, I'm with the doc soYou know how that go, skull and the crossbonesThis is poison, the boys and girls who do not knowYou do not want to try this at home my novato (novice)This is niether the time or the place to get machoSo crack a six pack, sit back with some nachosMaybe some popcorn, and watch the show and just rock slowIt's not what you expected, tho what you thought thoughBout time to you wake the fuck up smell the pot smokeIt must be the ganjaIt's the marijuanaThat's creepin upon me why I'm so highMaybe it's the hinde that has gotten in meWhatever's gotten into me I don't mindYour dreams of getting the pill, you are literally getting the drillSpitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pillYou're submitting to skill, sitting still, I'm admitting, I'm beginning to feelLike I don't think anyone's real,Faced with a dilemma, I can be Dali Llama and become a bin gramma a step beyond a Jeffrey DahmerPlease don't upset me mama, you lookin sexy mama,Don't know if this the lala or the rum and pepsi mamaDon't want to end up inside my refrigerator freezer,Be used as extra topping 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 plateAnd which motel 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 night it was done, what kid would write there was none,So sloppy like this it's fun, the fuckin ecstasy goesIt must be the ganjaIt's the marijuanaThat's creepin upon me why I'm so highMaybe it's the hinde that has gotten in meWhatever's gotten into me I don't mindWhen I'm behind a mic dynamite is what it's kinda likeGet stuck with that same stick that you're trying to lightBehind the boards is Dre, legends are made this wayIsn't it safe to say, this is the way it should be?Maybe you need some lyric syrup sign for your symptomsHeres a dosage of the antidote now you give him some,He can give her some, she can give him someGet behind a lynn drum, make up a beat and kill the sucka syndromeYou're spitting drama when it comes to lyrics and penance I'mStarting from scratch and then ending up at the end ending upCapable of bringing a bullets a stillunbelievable bullets aTitanium brain that's full of, surprisesWhen the smoke rises right before your very own eyesYou stare into your stereos eyesGood evening, this ain't even a weed thing,I didn't even smoke anything, I didn't even drink anythingIt must be the ganjaIt's the marijuanaThat's creepin upon me why I'm so highMaybe it's the hinde that has gotten in meWhatever's gotten into me I don't mind
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