Face Facts Lyrics
| Song | Face Facts |
| Artist | Kottonmouth Kings |
| Album | High Society |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : McNutt, Miller, Rogers ... | |
| Figured out a long time ago, | |
| Nothing's as it seems don't you know, | |
| Go underground if you want the scoop,'cause 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, | |
| You gotta smoke some weed just a little somthin' somthin', | |
| Don't hate me because | |
| I got the country buzzin',????, you know the crowd be jumpin', | |
| On my product blows like a chemical combustion, | |
| Real name, | |
| Dustin, I spit these customs, | |
| A.K.A. D-Loc, | |
| E-Loc's little cousin, | |
| Don't be mad, be glad, tell your dad,'cause | |
| I be spittin' rhymes you never knew | |
| I even had,?? walked into the sunlights, | |
| 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 ?? restraints | |
| 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 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 cand | |
| E 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,'cause my bowl, my bowl | |
| I set 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 ask him what he need to bring, | |
| I said some collar green, 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, | |
| Oooh 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 cuttin', | |
| 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' | |
| Give Me Some | |
| More,Now a days | |
| 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 orgies in the | |
| Hollywood | |
| Hills, for reals, | |
| I don't be speakin' no myths, raised on punk rock riffs, smokin' spliffs by the cliffs, | |
| And you and your krew'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 ?? hittin' little | |
| Jamacia's rockin' record shops,??? in stock and cravin ?? eating ???, | |
| All this talk of gettin' blazed reminds me of punk rock ways, | |
| Babylon could never rock our boat ???, | |
| That's what's really goin' on life 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. |
| zuo ci : McNutt, Miller, Rogers ... | |
| Figured out a long time ago, | |
| Nothing' s as it seems don' t you know, | |
| Go underground if you want the scoop,' cause the population' s out the loop, | |
| You know I size up my sacks with a couple extra grams, | |
| DLoc got a | |
| Caddy, I got a | |
| VDub 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, | |
| You gotta smoke some weed just a little somthin' somthin', | |
| Don' t hate me because | |
| I got the country buzzin',????, you know the crowd be jumpin', | |
| On my product blows like a chemical combustion, | |
| Real name, | |
| Dustin, I spit these customs, | |
| A. K. A. DLoc, | |
| ELoc' s little cousin, | |
| Don' t be mad, be glad, tell your dad,' cause | |
| I be spittin' rhymes you never knew | |
| I even had,?? walked into the sunlights, | |
| 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 ?? restraints | |
| 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 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 cand | |
| E 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,' cause my bowl, my bowl | |
| I set 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 ask him what he need to bring, | |
| I said some collar green, 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, | |
| Oooh 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 cuttin', | |
| 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' | |
| Give Me Some | |
| More, Now a days | |
| 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 orgies in the | |
| Hollywood | |
| Hills, for reals, | |
| I don' t be speakin' no myths, raised on punk rock riffs, smokin' spliffs by the cliffs, | |
| And you and your krew' 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 ?? hittin' little | |
| Jamacia' s rockin' record shops,??? in stock and cravin ?? eating ???, | |
| All this talk of gettin' blazed reminds me of punk rock ways, | |
| Babylon could never rock our boat ???, | |
| That' s what' s really goin' on life 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. |
| zuò cí : McNutt, Miller, Rogers ... | |
| Figured out a long time ago, | |
| Nothing' s as it seems don' t you know, | |
| Go underground if you want the scoop,' cause the population' s out the loop, | |
| You know I size up my sacks with a couple extra grams, | |
| DLoc got a | |
| Caddy, I got a | |
| VDub 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, | |
| You gotta smoke some weed just a little somthin' somthin', | |
| Don' t hate me because | |
| I got the country buzzin',????, you know the crowd be jumpin', | |
| On my product blows like a chemical combustion, | |
| Real name, | |
| Dustin, I spit these customs, | |
| A. K. A. DLoc, | |
| ELoc' s little cousin, | |
| Don' t be mad, be glad, tell your dad,' cause | |
| I be spittin' rhymes you never knew | |
| I even had,?? walked into the sunlights, | |
| 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 ?? restraints | |
| 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 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 cand | |
| E 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,' cause my bowl, my bowl | |
| I set 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 ask him what he need to bring, | |
| I said some collar green, 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, | |
| Oooh 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 cuttin', | |
| 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' | |
| Give Me Some | |
| More, Now a days | |
| 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 orgies in the | |
| Hollywood | |
| Hills, for reals, | |
| I don' t be speakin' no myths, raised on punk rock riffs, smokin' spliffs by the cliffs, | |
| And you and your krew' 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 ?? hittin' little | |
| Jamacia' s rockin' record shops,??? in stock and cravin ?? eating ???, | |
| All this talk of gettin' blazed reminds me of punk rock ways, | |
| Babylon could never rock our boat ???, | |
| That' s what' s really goin' on life 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. |
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