Face Facts — текст песни (Kottonmouth Kings f Dog Boy)

Figured out long time ago
Nothing`s as it seems don`t you know
Go underground if you want the scoop
Cuz the population`s out the loop

You know I size up my sacks with a couple extra grams
D-Loc got a caddy, I got a V-Dub van
X Daddy rolled a fatty, asked him What`s the plan?
He took a hit, blew out his rip
And said, Let`s plant the land

Yeah I smoke some weed, just a little somethin somethin
Don`t hate me because I got the country buzzin
Leave cats shocked, you know the crowd be jumpin
On my pride it blows like a chemical combustion
My real name`s Dustin, I spit these customs
AKA D-Loc, E-Loc`s little cousin
Don`t be mad, be glad, tell your dad
Cuz I be spittin` rhymes you never knew I even had
(??) (into the store?), double parked and got a ticket
By a midget on a pony, I called him shorty
He started twitchin, fingers clickin
While he`s bitchin, and I snapped
I had a vision, I was leading in the useless race
I had the pole position, no but kiddin`
And I didn`t make that mess up in your kitchen
I was dishin` out some sacks, and me and Loc, well we were fishin
I keep wishin` that you`d ease on up and quit it with your trippin
Maybe smoke a bit more weed and stop it with that candy flippin

Let`s face facts, chips get stacked
Unsystematically our pockets get fat
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks

Think you can out smoke me, well I`m calling you a liar
Cuz my bowl, I set it on fire
I`m on my couch with my pouch and my fat JB
Got ten different types of weed, about a pound of each
No leaves, they`re clipped clean
But the few they hit the bing
Then my phone rings, my boy askin what he need to bring
I said some coligreen, some kale, some pot, and some ale
And that freak we met last night, I think her name was uh...Michelle
Ah what the hell, just put out the word
Any hottie with the nerve, Richter said that he will serve

Graduated high school back in `95,started writin` rhymes
Laid low, I`m hard to find
A kid like me, no less, I`m kinda fresh
Discovered the weed, took a hit and got blessed
I`m not the best, just flexed on the next
Daddy X plan a text, simply not complexed
I`ll give it all I got, put the game to a test
Keep writin` rhymes and forget about the rest

Let`s face facts, chips get stacked
Unsystematically our pockets get fat
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks

Ooh damn, there he goes again
Throwin` his cigarettes out the window
Blowin` fog with logs, sticky indo
You know it comes a dime a dozen
Flow like Snoop, lay it back in the cut and
Woo, I think I`ll pass on the brew
And smoke my buds with the Kottonmouth Krew
The big bad ass, you know who

Well, I really can`t tell if there`s a difference anymore
Goin` up or goin` down, where`s the elevator door?
Got the pimped out suite on the 13th floor
Black Flag`s in my speakers blarin` Gimme some more
Nowadays I stay blazed, a hundred ways, my brain`s crazed
Gone like those punk days, I`m stackin` chips like Frito, Lays
I`ve been to that place, fast cars, cheap thrills
Funny looking pills, million dollar deals
Three day orgys in the Hollywood Hills, for real
I don`t be speakin` no myths, raised on punk rock riffs
Smokin` spliffs by the cliffs
And you and your crew`s talking about What if...?`s

Let`s face facts, chips get stacked
Unsystematically our pockets get fat
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks

All this talk of gettin` blazed, reminds me of reggae Sundays
Lazy dread and sweaters bust, the Crenshaw District lord was a must
Burnin` spliffs to tell (??), hittin` little Jamaica`s rockin record shops
(??) in stock and cravin (egg?) eating stones, (??)
All this talk of gettin` blazed, reminds me of punk rock ways
Babylon could never rock our boat, all I need (??)
That`s what`s really goin` on, life`s too short to be a victim
If you don`t like what you got, respond
When time has come to make a move, down to you to come up and prove
It`s time to make a change, so chose

Let`s face facts, chips get stacked
Unsystematically our pockets get fat
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks

Ganja business controls America



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