Luyện nghe bài hát Must Be The Ganja

Yeah, oh, oh, yeah,
Oh, I feel like
I feel like

I smell in the air that's makin' me high
I said, I smell something in the air makin' me high

Okay, we go, do re mi fa so, fa so la ti da so
Lyrical Rosco, kick back the
You must just not know the tic-tock so
Time to you the most kick ass flow in the cosmos

Picasso with a ax, a sick asshole
Tic-tac-toe frozen six pack, with
Knives, stranglin' wives with lasso
Big bags of the grass, zig zags, I'm the Doc, so

You how that go, skull and the crossbones
This is poison, the and girls who do not know
You do not wanna try this at home, my lil
This is neither the time nor the place to get

So crack a six pack, sit with some nachos
some popcorn and watch the show and just rock slow
It's not what you nor what you thought so
Bout time that you the fuck up, smell the pot smoke

It must be the ganja, the marijuana
That's up on me while I'm so high
it's the Henny that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me, I don't

I reckon it's the ganja, it's the
creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Henny has gotten in me
got into me, I don't mind

Your dreams are getting' fulfilled, ooh, I'm literally getting' the
Spittin' at will, me and Dre have just finished a pill
You're to skill, sitting still
I'm admitting, I'm beginning to feel like I don't anyone's real

Faced with a dilemma, I can be Dalai
And be calm or bring drama a step beyond a Jeffrey
Please, don't me, mama, you lookin' sexy, mama
know if it's the lala or the rum and Pepsi, mama

Don't want to end up inside my freezer
Be used as extra the next time I make a pizza
How many people you know can every serial killer
Who existed in a row?

Put 'em in chronological order, beginning with the Ripper
Name the time and from the body, the bag, the zipper
Location of the woods where the body was and then dumped
The trunk they were stuffed in, the model, the make, the plate

And which model, lake they found her in and how they attacked the victim
Say which murder weapon was used to do and which one
Which knife and which gun, what kid, wife and which nun?
Don't stop, I like this, it's fun, the fuckin' night's just

It must be the ganja, it's the
That's creepin' up on me I'm so high
Maybe it's the Henny that has in me
Whatever's gotten me I don't mind

I reckon its the ganja, it's the
That's creepin' up on me while I'm so
Maybe it's the that has gotten in me
Whatever's got into me I don't

When I'm behind a mic, dynamite is what it's kinda
You're stuck the same stick that you're tryin' to light
Behind the boards is Dre, legends are made way
it safe to say this is the way it should be?

Maybe you need some lyric syrup serum for your
Here's a of the antidote, now you give him some
He can her some, she can give them some
Get behind a Lynn drum, up a beat and kill the sucka syndrome

The spinning when it comes to lyrics and pennin' some
Starting from and then endin' up at the end enough
Capable of bringin' a Pulitzer, believe a bullet's a
Titanium, cranium that's full of

When the smoke rises before your very own eyes
You stare into your high
Good evenin', this isn't even a thing
I ain't smoke anything, I ain't even drinking

It must be the ganja, it's the
creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe the Henny that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me I don't

I reckon it's the ganja, the marijuana
That's up on me while I'm so high
it's the Henny that has gotten in me
Whatever's got me I don't mind