Two Hits and Pass Lyrics
| Song | Two Hits and Pass |
| Artist | II Tru |
| Album | A New Breed of Female |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Anthony, Blaine ... | |
| (Sin) | |
| A high plane's drifter keepers of the night | |
| We shiftin', strugglin' with all our might | |
| We fight to restore order, reporters from Hell | |
| Distorted visions impair the thinkin', be blinkin' in and out | |
| You better watch me | |
| I see this thrown, 'cause the food, it was rotten | |
| Rats and roaches approachin' from all sides | |
| Discombobulated corpses | |
| Evil forces provokin' my movements | |
| Interact and get slaughtered | |
| No losses will be issued on this side of the fence | |
| What will it take for you suckas to be convinced? | |
| You won't be happy 'til you're lynched | |
| Get hauled off in a box, and thrown inside of a trench | |
| We pulled your balls out to see where you got your strength | |
| You made me pull my sawed-off, so I burnt you to a crisp | |
| (Brina) | |
| Gotta get that blaze on | |
| That indo keep callin' me for that deuce up | |
| Partner, what's up? | |
| Better take them two hits and pass that blunt up to your left | |
| Keep it comin' back-to-back with that buddah smoke | |
| Gotta get them lungs full | |
| Me puff that potent smoke | |
| 'Till me choke, croak, from a hella that ganja | |
| Droppin' them P's to that marijuana, see | |
| 'Cause a sista in need to smoke that weed with much honor | |
| E-Z Wider, Swisha, or Philly, don't matter really | |
| 'Cause it smokes the same | |
| Blaze that indo up, toke up, two hits on the danks | |
| (Ken Dawg) | |
| I told you it don't stop (stop) | |
| Opposin' these cops; I get stopped in the drop | |
| Now, locked up, get outta jail and hopped (hopped) on a flight | |
| Man, I was fucked up in the parking lot | |
| Straight tryin' to get sucked up, what? | |
| I heard they sayin' webroke | |
| Nigga, for what, huh? | |
| These Benz's ain't from no dope | |
| You punk muthafuckas quote them wrong | |
| I'm ridin' so real wih this game | |
| You punk niggas can't maintain | |
| Fuck the fame | |
| I can't change, what? | |
| (Jhaz) | |
| We know Jhaz gon' smoke some of that indo | |
| Get your toke on, too, 'till my mind blow | |
| Got a flow, then ante up for more | |
| So please, nigga, chill on all that trippin' | |
| Two hits then pass to the left 'cause that blunt I must be hittin' | |
| Gotsta find the chronic, on a mission, here I go | |
| Bud and indo, 'cause the Clair is full of chronic, bag of indo | |
| Get your toke on | |
| (Tombstone) | |
| In the twilight it pays to lay, creepers come out | |
| We're all weak in this game to play | |
| Night breeders can't stand the day | |
| Dirges will, uh, bring out the worst kind of killers | |
| In the hood we got thrillers | |
| First degree murderin' cap peelas, warders | |
| Sit back watch the movie | |
| Damn, six-five got little G, wonder what? | |
| Took two hits and pass they ass to the reaper | |
| Got them niggas, triggers be blazin' in the cold | |
| But ain't no facin' these niggas made of gold | |
| Now, you know - (STC) known for writin' scriptures in the Land | |
| Now, hustlas, carjackers, and hitchers got his ass on the side of the road | |
| Stay far away from witches, hell of a world to think clear | |
| Enter by all means if you dare fall victim | |
| To being a slave to the rhythm of the ghetto | |
| (Flesh) | |
| Ziplock reaper the Flesh Bone chalk you if you don't pump pump | |
| And let dump dump pumps peep you for the bloody mess | |
| And he break in, testin' Flesh-N-Bone, 'cause the nigga get gone | |
| Expect to feel it with the forty-four, fold shit, killas gone | |
| I'll hit ya, ? and the bomb hit, man, don't get too close | |
| It will be for keeps, nine deep | |
| Gon' keep on sellin' up ? needin' my pump in the industry | |
| I'm ? a menace, shit, we get nasty, gotta take two hits and pass | |
| Takin' it into the lungs, light a fifty-sack | |
| Lookin' for me havin' some fun in the back | |
| And who thought nigga that's what they caught me | |
| Armageddon's ninety nine, is he out when I'm in the violence | |
| Label me outlaw, see me act deceased, lie down, stop all get | |
| All get diseases in all your life you go | |
| When they gonna cross all third world speaks for leaves | |
| Fin to learn to get Mo Thug Flesh-N-Bone hittin' em, | |
| Endin' 'em all of 'em, all... |
| zuo qu : Anthony, Blaine ... | |
| Sin | |
| A high plane' s drifter keepers of the night | |
| We shiftin', strugglin' with all our might | |
| We fight to restore order, reporters from Hell | |
| Distorted visions impair the thinkin', be blinkin' in and out | |
| You better watch me | |
| I see this thrown, ' cause the food, it was rotten | |
| Rats and roaches approachin' from all sides | |
| Discombobulated corpses | |
| Evil forces provokin' my movements | |
| Interact and get slaughtered | |
| No losses will be issued on this side of the fence | |
| What will it take for you suckas to be convinced? | |
| You won' t be happy ' til you' re lynched | |
| Get hauled off in a box, and thrown inside of a trench | |
| We pulled your balls out to see where you got your strength | |
| You made me pull my sawedoff, so I burnt you to a crisp | |
| Brina | |
| Gotta get that blaze on | |
| That indo keep callin' me for that deuce up | |
| Partner, what' s up? | |
| Better take them two hits and pass that blunt up to your left | |
| Keep it comin' backtoback with that buddah smoke | |
| Gotta get them lungs full | |
| Me puff that potent smoke | |
| ' Till me choke, croak, from a hella that ganja | |
| Droppin' them P' s to that marijuana, see | |
| ' Cause a sista in need to smoke that weed with much honor | |
| EZ Wider, Swisha, or Philly, don' t matter really | |
| ' Cause it smokes the same | |
| Blaze that indo up, toke up, two hits on the danks | |
| Ken Dawg | |
| I told you it don' t stop stop | |
| Opposin' these cops I get stopped in the drop | |
| Now, locked up, get outta jail and hopped hopped on a flight | |
| Man, I was fucked up in the parking lot | |
| Straight tryin' to get sucked up, what? | |
| I heard they sayin' webroke | |
| Nigga, for what, huh? | |
| These Benz' s ain' t from no dope | |
| You punk muthafuckas quote them wrong | |
| I' m ridin' so real wih this game | |
| You punk niggas can' t maintain | |
| Fuck the fame | |
| I can' t change, what? | |
| Jhaz | |
| We know Jhaz gon' smoke some of that indo | |
| Get your toke on, too, ' till my mind blow | |
| Got a flow, then ante up for more | |
| So please, nigga, chill on all that trippin' | |
| Two hits then pass to the left ' cause that blunt I must be hittin' | |
| Gotsta find the chronic, on a mission, here I go | |
| Bud and indo, ' cause the Clair is full of chronic, bag of indo | |
| Get your toke on | |
| Tombstone | |
| In the twilight it pays to lay, creepers come out | |
| We' re all weak in this game to play | |
| Night breeders can' t stand the day | |
| Dirges will, uh, bring out the worst kind of killers | |
| In the hood we got thrillers | |
| First degree murderin' cap peelas, warders | |
| Sit back watch the movie | |
| Damn, sixfive got little G, wonder what? | |
| Took two hits and pass they ass to the reaper | |
| Got them niggas, triggers be blazin' in the cold | |
| But ain' t no facin' these niggas made of gold | |
| Now, you know STC known for writin' scriptures in the Land | |
| Now, hustlas, carjackers, and hitchers got his ass on the side of the road | |
| Stay far away from witches, hell of a world to think clear | |
| Enter by all means if you dare fall victim | |
| To being a slave to the rhythm of the ghetto | |
| Flesh | |
| Ziplock reaper the Flesh Bone chalk you if you don' t pump pump | |
| And let dump dump pumps peep you for the bloody mess | |
| And he break in, testin' FleshNBone, ' cause the nigga get gone | |
| Expect to feel it with the fortyfour, fold shit, killas gone | |
| I' ll hit ya, nbsp? and the bomb hit, man, don' t get too close | |
| It will be for keeps, nine deep | |
| Gon' keep on sellin' up nbsp? needin' my pump in the industry | |
| I' m nbsp? a menace, shit, we get nasty, gotta take two hits and pass | |
| Takin' it into the lungs, light a fiftysack | |
| Lookin' for me havin' some fun in the back | |
| And who thought nigga that' s what they caught me | |
| Armageddon' s ninety nine, is he out when I' m in the violence | |
| Label me outlaw, see me act deceased, lie down, stop all get | |
| All get diseases in all your life you go | |
| When they gonna cross all third world speaks for leaves | |
| Fin to learn to get Mo Thug FleshNBone hittin' em, | |
| Endin' ' em all of ' em, all... |
| zuò qǔ : Anthony, Blaine ... | |
| Sin | |
| A high plane' s drifter keepers of the night | |
| We shiftin', strugglin' with all our might | |
| We fight to restore order, reporters from Hell | |
| Distorted visions impair the thinkin', be blinkin' in and out | |
| You better watch me | |
| I see this thrown, ' cause the food, it was rotten | |
| Rats and roaches approachin' from all sides | |
| Discombobulated corpses | |
| Evil forces provokin' my movements | |
| Interact and get slaughtered | |
| No losses will be issued on this side of the fence | |
| What will it take for you suckas to be convinced? | |
| You won' t be happy ' til you' re lynched | |
| Get hauled off in a box, and thrown inside of a trench | |
| We pulled your balls out to see where you got your strength | |
| You made me pull my sawedoff, so I burnt you to a crisp | |
| Brina | |
| Gotta get that blaze on | |
| That indo keep callin' me for that deuce up | |
| Partner, what' s up? | |
| Better take them two hits and pass that blunt up to your left | |
| Keep it comin' backtoback with that buddah smoke | |
| Gotta get them lungs full | |
| Me puff that potent smoke | |
| ' Till me choke, croak, from a hella that ganja | |
| Droppin' them P' s to that marijuana, see | |
| ' Cause a sista in need to smoke that weed with much honor | |
| EZ Wider, Swisha, or Philly, don' t matter really | |
| ' Cause it smokes the same | |
| Blaze that indo up, toke up, two hits on the danks | |
| Ken Dawg | |
| I told you it don' t stop stop | |
| Opposin' these cops I get stopped in the drop | |
| Now, locked up, get outta jail and hopped hopped on a flight | |
| Man, I was fucked up in the parking lot | |
| Straight tryin' to get sucked up, what? | |
| I heard they sayin' webroke | |
| Nigga, for what, huh? | |
| These Benz' s ain' t from no dope | |
| You punk muthafuckas quote them wrong | |
| I' m ridin' so real wih this game | |
| You punk niggas can' t maintain | |
| Fuck the fame | |
| I can' t change, what? | |
| Jhaz | |
| We know Jhaz gon' smoke some of that indo | |
| Get your toke on, too, ' till my mind blow | |
| Got a flow, then ante up for more | |
| So please, nigga, chill on all that trippin' | |
| Two hits then pass to the left ' cause that blunt I must be hittin' | |
| Gotsta find the chronic, on a mission, here I go | |
| Bud and indo, ' cause the Clair is full of chronic, bag of indo | |
| Get your toke on | |
| Tombstone | |
| In the twilight it pays to lay, creepers come out | |
| We' re all weak in this game to play | |
| Night breeders can' t stand the day | |
| Dirges will, uh, bring out the worst kind of killers | |
| In the hood we got thrillers | |
| First degree murderin' cap peelas, warders | |
| Sit back watch the movie | |
| Damn, sixfive got little G, wonder what? | |
| Took two hits and pass they ass to the reaper | |
| Got them niggas, triggers be blazin' in the cold | |
| But ain' t no facin' these niggas made of gold | |
| Now, you know STC known for writin' scriptures in the Land | |
| Now, hustlas, carjackers, and hitchers got his ass on the side of the road | |
| Stay far away from witches, hell of a world to think clear | |
| Enter by all means if you dare fall victim | |
| To being a slave to the rhythm of the ghetto | |
| Flesh | |
| Ziplock reaper the Flesh Bone chalk you if you don' t pump pump | |
| And let dump dump pumps peep you for the bloody mess | |
| And he break in, testin' FleshNBone, ' cause the nigga get gone | |
| Expect to feel it with the fortyfour, fold shit, killas gone | |
| I' ll hit ya, nbsp? and the bomb hit, man, don' t get too close | |
| It will be for keeps, nine deep | |
| Gon' keep on sellin' up nbsp? needin' my pump in the industry | |
| I' m nbsp? a menace, shit, we get nasty, gotta take two hits and pass | |
| Takin' it into the lungs, light a fiftysack | |
| Lookin' for me havin' some fun in the back | |
| And who thought nigga that' s what they caught me | |
| Armageddon' s ninety nine, is he out when I' m in the violence | |
| Label me outlaw, see me act deceased, lie down, stop all get | |
| All get diseases in all your life you go | |
| When they gonna cross all third world speaks for leaves | |
| Fin to learn to get Mo Thug FleshNBone hittin' em, | |
| Endin' ' em all of ' em, all... |
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