Songtext zu 'Sticky Icky' von Bizzy Bone

(I got that sticky fool, ha ha, what nigga?) I got that sticky-icky bubonic chronic (bubonic chronic...) for your shizzle nizzle in your grizzle/ Nigga, fo' sheezy/ I got that sticky-icky bubonic chronic (bubonic chronic...) for your grizzle nizzle, fo' shizzle/ Nigga, fo' sheezy

Ooh-ee! Nigga got the good sticky weed/ We dampen the Swisha, pass it to my nigga/ Motherfucker better pick up your gun; You better prepare/ Got my eyes closed, let the smoke go everywhere, 45 on the freeway, nigga, give me leeway/ Higher than a kite when I'm rollin' through the alley/ Pass me a Black and White/ But that's my boy cauze me and his skeez is tight/ And the weed is lime green, better catch it for my chronic seed and it was callin' me/ Oh yeah, I can't wait till this sh*t's in the air, smoke anywhere/ High, hell/ A little bitty nigga that was sellin' the rocks on the Claire and the devil is here and he wants your soul to rot with his in hell, hell/ Till again they can put a nigga in jail when I'm just tryin' to get high/ But I used to sell and now I leave it alone cauze I'm doing well, well/ I never sold out, I can do what I want to/ My baby momma want money? I never hold out/ Hey, b*tch hold up/ You tried to leave me all fortied up/ You got me fucked up/ No doubt, I'm blowin' up

Wrappin' the crack and the dice/ Like when I did on Brackland and Lil' B The Dopeman/ And Lil' sold crack and crack, man/ Humilitation to the black man, black man/ My momma smoked weed, my daddy smoked weed, hell, we all smoke weed/ So I'm havin' my fun so give me what me need, baby/ I like it and got up in High Times/ I even got it down for my nigga on 99/ Down for the crime, nigga don't let the cops come cauze I'd be runnin' with mine like we got rock/ Feelin' fine and my heart's already runnin'/ I got the drama, hear them steady comin'/ Uh come on {inhales} What you wanna do? Throw you away all day everyday, hey! Fuck attitude shit/ I got thangs to do/ A nigga really got kids and bills with the crew/ I'm a pay them, nigga you already knew/ Baby father, I call on my trues/ How does it relate to weed? Fuck the weed, relate to me; A real nigga with the T-H-C, and no G-H-B/ These are the last days roll me to sleep come on, come on

I'm blowing up, I'm blowing up, I'm blowing up, I'm blowing up, I'm blowing up, I'm blowing up, I'm blowing up, I'm blowing up (Bubonic chronic...)
Bizzy Bone
I'm ready for the war/ Still got time to let the weed cure/ Watch for the women with S-T-D sores, less than the rythym, I got to get some/ And full of adrenaline, a new millenium/ What am I drinking? I'll be in the back with titanium/ Damn, what's this shit I'm smoking? The weed got a motherfucker thinking, yeah/ Up, jump in the cab and rush/ What? We can't catch the bus? I'm goin' to see my broad and fuck y'all niggas, I'm in the love/ Ain't nobody fin' to stop me, dog/ What's with the dreads? "You might wanna be mindin' your bizness there, yellow man" Hey man fuck you nigga/ A nigga to the hood, dog, I got the weed, I'm gonna break the bread, yeah/ On the freeway coastin' like we was ridin' the limo, fuck that/ Windows was tinted, it's me, menace license with crushed grass {laughs} Tell the fetish, we puff-puff and pass-pass (give it back) and I'm still on point, I got my mind on the hour glass (you know it) and why the fuck you not drivin' fast? Hurry up, I got ass to mash and I'm there