"Bong Tokin' Alcoholics"

My mission: the commission of the dishin out for facts
Cuz when I'm dimin' my rhymin never slacks, never lacks
So get back to the basics and face it.
The American dream aint what it seems
With lies they've laced it. Can't you taste it?
See they baste it in an imitation butter.
We've ate it and realized its not nature to mother
Generic like no other, man, fuck big brotha!

The Kottonmouth King klick. Are you blind or somethin?
Are you blind to the facts? You think that this system,
That this society, sees any other color other than green?
Well it's all slave-driven. The illusion of ownership in America
Property is theft, that's how we livin'

The bong tokin' alcoholics
Gettin bent every night is the thing we do
Wakin' up every day in the afternoon.
I crawl out the bed on the way to the shower
Gotta hurry up I got a date in an hour.
Call my boy X on the shower phone.
'What's up, Saint? Man, I'm stoned alone
By the way I got the freaks on point
Call up the krew, hook it up. Lata.'
I hung up with X and gave my boys a holla.
D-loc picked up said 'What's up balla?'
Just droppin a dime and time about this party
There'll be a lotta beer and some naughty hotties
I'll call Bobby let him know the plan,
And we'll bounce through in the nitrate van.
We'll take a road trip, 40-sip on the way
Oh yeah X commin' through with some freaks from the Bay

Bong tokin alcoholics, the Kottonmouth tilt is what we call it,
The bong tokin alcoholics, step back I'm bout to crack
Legalize it!
The bong tokin alcoholics [repeat]

We drank up a fifth and sparked a bowl
Humble Gods on the radio bumpin' real low.
I reach into the back and pull out the 64,
I took it to the head like a mothafuckin' pro
Yo, that drink got me on tilt,
Ya better sit down cuz you about to spill
Now we approach up on the corner of the house party
I'm down, I'm told...?
Conversation with the krew, I thought you knew to pass the brew
Tasted kinda freaked, Saint your ass is through
Break out the beer bong man, I wanna get faded
Cuz drinkin' out the bottle is just so overrated,
We got the 22, we're fillin' up on Mickeys
Now what's up you drunk bitch? You spillin' on my Dickies
Well boost up the bass, go easy on the treble
And let 'em all know that we some psycho rebels
With our pants saggin', skates in our hand
With our pants saggin', skates in our hand
With our pants saggin', skates in our hand
Now we're rollin' 3 deep and we don't give a damn
Bong tokin alcoholics, the Kottonmouth tilt is what we call it
The bong tokin alcoholics, step back I'm bout to crack
Legalize it!
The bong tokin alcoholics [repeat]

I got the blunts and I got the beer
Daddy X hits skins in the rear view mirror
We walked up to the spot, the keg's our destination
Cuz runnin' local parties is a nightly occupation
I went to get a beer, felt a finger in my back
'Hey I like your shirt', yeah I see it is quite phat
But no time to mack cuz Saint's drunk as hell
He was standin' on the table and he started to yell,
'All the freaks up in the party, move around and shake your body
And if you're down with the boys of P-Town
Lemme see somebody get naughty.
Is the west coast in the house?
Then pick it up, pick it up, pick it up!'
Well get naughty they did and these girls start to strip,
Started freakin' on my shit and her boyfriend tried to trip
I said 'You talk shit, punk? Let's step outside'
He put his fists up, I put em on his eye
He got a left to the cheek, skateboard to the dome,
I busted out the (?) and took his girlie home

Bong tokin alcoholics, the Kottonmouth tilt is what we call it,
The bong tokin alcoholics, step back I'm bout to crack
Legalize it!
The bong tokin alcoholics [repeat]

"Play On"

Kottonmouth Kings don't stand for a gang
Kottonmouth Kings just let the nuts hang
Everyday thing how we hang, how we hang
Kottonmouth Kings just do their own thing

This the type of thing that we be doin' everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi didi dodi day
Make some room so these players can play
So we can play on, play on

Now I woke up this morning and I thought about Hoss
Smoked a cigarette and I chucked my dirty drawers
Threw on some Dickies and I grabbed my back chain
Slapped it down my waist and I let my pants hang
Beanie on my head just to cover up my lump
The night before got in a fight just cause I was drunk
Grabbed my sack of weed and I loaded up the bong
Took a rip held it in then I coughed up a lung
Burn some incense so I can cover up the smell
An everyday thing that I live to tell
Pulled out my Black Flys, covered up my red eyes
If that copper pulls me over well its lies, lies, lies
Dirty copper, dirty copper, dirty copper

Now the stereo is on and the CD was bumpin'
Insane Clown Posse talkin' bout chicken huntin'
Walked up to the fridge, opened it up and grabbed my brew
Picked up the phone dialed my pimp and called the crew
Party later on, over by river jetties
56th Street so you know there'll be some betties
Pacific Coast Highway takes me to my destination
Party time baby, its a nightly occupation
Stepped out the pad, walked in the player's den
On the way mail a letter to my brother in the pen
There's a smile on your face from my smooth dub style
See you later alligator, after a while crocodile

Now a new day dawned, lets get things started
Hit the bong, wrote a song, took a piss and farted
Dip my blue jeans in some bleach and starches
Mobbin' OC we need the golden arches
D-Loc where you at?
Saint's hung over and he started to yack
Kicked out of Mickey D's cuz we don't know how to act
Lets call up Kevin Zinger hook a forty sack
Now tonight's the night like DJ Quik
At least 3 parties that we gotta hit
And if the cops show up were gonna start some shit
Riot time baby-Kottonmouth Klick
Punk rock music homegrown in OC
Adolescents, Doggy Style, DI and Social D
No Doubt, Agent Orange now the PTB
The last generation of the dynasty
Now the skates in the sack lets hit the ditch
Broke up with my girlie cause the ho was a bitch
Still that boy that be puttin' it down
Representin' OC, P-Town

This the type of thing that we be doin' everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi didi dodi day
Make some room so these players can play
So we can play on play on

Brought the 77 slant nose V-dub Bug
Leaks oil but the roads (?)called it crazy (mug?)
Its a little noisy but inside its all good
Got two 15's underneath the hood
Well I was rollin' down Yorba Linda Blvd.
Got the neighborhoods bumpin', tainted hard
Dodgin' and weavin' down suburban streets
Till this one house wife started bitchin' at me
So I pulled the bug over and I revved it up
First gear lit em up, then I backed it up
Over the curb, told her to kiss my ass
Gave her the bird, boned out on that ass
Back on the mission to score a sack
77 boned out passed the Cadillac
Heard a horn honk it was full of freaks
Ladies on my tip cause I'm so unique
Turn the bass high and I tilted my lid
I'm used to gettin' jocked, I'm that P-Town kid
And you know I'm doin' shit that you wish you did
Dip right goin' 30 around the corner I slid
Stopped at the school jumped on my skate
4 freaks showed up, one I use to date
They broke out the blunt and they got me stoned
Another day gone, so long, so long

This the type of thing that we be doin' everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi day
Make some room so these players can play
So we can play on, play on

(We don't let them know?) that we smoke out everyday
Didi dodi didi dodi day
Bring a fat sack so the homies can blaze
So we can blaze on, blaze on

Didi dodi didi dodi day
Didi dodi didi dodi day
Play on Blaze on
Blaze on Play on
Play on Blaze on
Blaze on Play on

"Suburban Life"

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems

The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Now my pops bought the system, American dreamer
Bought a new home and a brand new Beamer
But it didn't long for things things to fall apart
Because the system that he bought aint got no heart
From the bills for days he got blood shot eyes
The American dream was a pack of lies
6 months later Municipal court
Divorce time baby, child support
I went from home cooked meals to TV dinners
No more little Steven, now it's Saint Dogg the sinner
There's no cash back cause there was no receipt
Man suburban life aint done a dime for me

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Gave in a little deeper to the third degree
More drugs, white thugs, and wannabe's
Soldiers of the burbs all feel deceived
America! What? Land of the green
Now you got problems I got mine too
There's not enough bud for the Kottonmouth Krew
Cause when we smoke we smoke to get away
To elevate from this world of hate, never perpetrate
I don't want no degree selling herbs on the burbs,
On every street
No real jobs for the PTB, So what's it gonna be?
White minority!

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Now broken homes inside every house
Neighbors yellin', can't work it out
I said beaten wives, tweaked out nights
ooh what a feeling ooh what a life
Now you cant turn back the hands of time
So let me tell you about da flyest friend of mine
He's Bobby B, king of the crops
Deep dark purse, phat drop tops
Philly blunt placed behind his ear,
Two turn tables and a Heineken beer
And this is just and everyday thing
Kottonmouth Kings telephone rings
Its X and you know he's rollin' with Saint Dog
Leapin' like some frogs trunk full of hogs
Trunk full of stakes, dirt bikes and rakes
What ever we could get we was gonna take
Just like the pirates of the Caribbean
Neighborhood watch don't like what they're seein'
Ha ha ha we got it like that
Kottonmouth rollin' deep, snatching surfboard racks

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me
The Big A, little A and a bouncin' B
The system got you but it won't get me

Suburban Life aint what it seems
Suburban life the American dream
Suburban life so pretty and clean
Suburban life aint what it seems
Fuck the system

"Life Ain't What It Seems"

Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.
So get a grip up on your shit and make sure your pipe's clean.

When I drink booze put a crown on my royal
Kottonmouth Kings make a pipe outta foil
Put a grip to my lip, dip it in honey oil.
Smoke it to the butt put it out in the soil.
Damn Saint Dog, I'm outta weed again, "I feel ya"
Pockets lookin thin aint got a dime to spend!
Big Hoss is in the pen, yes he's doing 10, "Fuck the system!"
I smoke a cigarette and try to comprehend.
Judicial system got me wishing I was president
I got a grudge against the judgment that's irrelevant.
I write a rhyme to attract and show intelligence
Shit, every other night I'm getting hella bent.
I roll my skate to relate to this society, society
No money in my pockets cause they lied to me, "lied to me too!"
No papers to my name, ya see my bong broke, bong broke
I guess that's why they call me crazy D-Loc.

Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.
So get a grip upon yo shit and make sure yo pipes clean.

When I grow buds I put keefe on my soil
Put the green in the bing then I make my water boil.
Alcohol and rice roll nice with the coil
Evian in my bong so my water don't spoil.
Damn Loc-Dog I'm outta drink again, "I feel ya!"
Buds lookin slim, I need a Heineken, "A Heineken!"
My bro's locked down doin 9 or 10, "Fuck that!"
Step back, I'm bout to crack, can you comprehend?

Placentia City got me witty on this way of life.
I (ride?) a duck, what the fuck, skin it with my knife
There's a zone in my dome called the twilight
I'm down for my crown each and every night
Well I keep my tolerance, stay inside my flow
Make ya say 'damn bro I got to go to a show'
Life aint what it seems, it aint a dream and I aint playing.
But I'm Saint Vicious and Daddy X is saying

Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.
So get a grip upon yo shit and make sure yo pipes clean.

Now when a read a mag put a grand on my royal
Government lies yo they make my water boil.
R.I.P. to my peeps 6 feet in the soil.
Riverside hometown represent, stay loyal.

No money for the skate no change for the tax
Went surfin with no keefe but forgot the sex wax.
Have a purple friend to help ya to relax.
A one foot glass called the paramax.
Now afternoon to you is my morning
I wake up hit the roach and then I'm snoring
Outta bed around 3 take 7 BT's
Like DJ Rob Harris kid I'm soarin'
I pertains an ill congested vibe
Makes ladies strive for my bozak
Addicted like prozac. You know that I track em like Lojak.
I'm slicker and quicker, I'll stick ya like Kojak.
I'm alone upon this rhyme that I've created.
This rhyme that I've inflated, wont trade it so gimme my space.
Government controls so they hated
Our life, it has been jaded and faded
We're getting erased.

Life aint what it seems, it aint no fucking dream.
So get a grip upon yo shit and make sure yo pipes clean.

"So High"

It's time for 'Real Talk' with Bobby B
Attention young ladies, attention young ladies
Man homeboy's over here in the garage with 4 1000's
Powder nutrients growing in the dirt
Takin' 4 and a half months not even getting a full peak
Ya know, ya know, ya know.
In a room the size of a telephone booth
Using liquid nutrients, (buds swell rock, wool?)
One 1000 watt high pressure sodium
(kevorki?) buds the size of a fuckin' Volkswagen,
Ya know what I'm talkin' about, you do the math motherfucker.
What's up smokers?
Another suburban noize joint for you to pull on
Stoners Reeking Havoc

I'ma get you so high, I'ma make that ass fly.
Hit the bong, stand by
I'ma get you so high

Back up off me, I need room to puff
Fuck Babylon, man I can't get enough
I smoke, so I like it going down
We're all getting lifted cuz I just stole a pound
Two hits and pass, that's what Saint's yellin
Fuck that shit, I'm hittin till my mind's jelly
And when I'm done, I'll head to Flannagan's
To play some pool and that's with a couple friends

Grab a sack, it's off to a local park
Break out the bong, pack it tight and let it spark
Windows up so the bug's gettin fishbowled
And if you're in you can't escape the indo
Oh shit, it's gettin deep into my mind
I took 7 hits off that bud called kind
Close my eyes, my mind starts joggin
Here I go again, man, my mind's boggling

I'ma get you so high, mind boggling
I'ma make that ass fly, mind boggling
Hit the bong stand by, mind boggling
I'ma get you so high

Here I go reminiscing about the weekend
Takin time to remember where my shit has been
Dinner to dancing, fly girl romancing
Ballin with the homies, smoking buds and relaxin
(?) that shit is how I was smoking
Fuck this schwag weed, indo is what I'm tokin
Splif to my lips as I tilt my head back
Lookin like a mack cuz I'm down to blaze a sack
I said inhale, exhale, kottonmouth hits so I said 'that's swell'
Pass a tweak to the left, party busters set in
I need some fresh air cuz I'm high off that in
Walked towards the door but man I didn't get far
High kicked in, I took a seat at the bar
As I look into the sky and the air starts fogging
Here I go again, yo my mind's boggling

I'ma get you so high, mind boggling
I'ma make that ass fly, mind boggling
Hit the bong stand by, mind boggling
I'ma get you so high

Here I go getting deeper into my mind again
Thinking bout good times, smoking kind again
By myself so you say, am I a stoner or a loner
Man I can't cope with this lil hell that I'm livin in
I got family members fiending from the cocaine
And loved ones locked up in prison
That's why I'm bailin' ya'll, man fuck the system!
all the pressures of this life get me frustrated
So I reach for the bong so I can get faded
I blaze a bowl and it take me to another level
To escape the pain and all my life's trouble
Close my eyes, pray take the pain away
Ask the lord should I live to see another day
Rob Harris died, I guess this is one of life's little tests
...take a bullet to the chest
(Money can't buy me my?) first real true love,
died at 23, now she's waitin for me up above
Get the pipe, pack it tight, start hoggin
Here I go again motherfucker my mind's boggling

"Big Hoss"

State of California, finds you guilty, guilty
Although I did them no wrong they laid a trap for me
Although I did them no wrong they dug a pit for me
So let's set and ruin, over take them
Let them be caught in the snare they set for me
Let them fall to destruction in the pit they dug for me
Better get your facts straight, know what I'm saying?
Another day in the motherfucking cell
Hope all you motherfuckers are happy
Fucking sellouts

Now this is going out to Big Hoss up in prison
Going out to Big Hoss
And anybody else who got busted by the system

What's up Big Hoss?
What's up ST?
3 years later, long time no see
You know things just ain't the same since ya been inside
Yeah, they took away my freedom but they can't take my pride
From the Riverside County to the St.Cloud Pen
They said 435 so fuck it, I took 10
Well then, sometimes I sip on my gin
And think about the things we used to do back when
When we was growing up? yeah we were just kids
Still I regret some of the shit I did
The people think this place is for my own good,
But who the fuck are they to take away my childhood?
And leave your baby son with just a momma to mold him
And no fucking daddy around to hold him
But I hold him, like he's one of my own
Tell him bout me daily until his his daddy comes home
I gives a fuck, if I sin for revengance,
I put the face in a fucking fist,
Have them beggin for forgiveness,
Nah Saint just let 'em live through this
Cuz karma's got a way of coming back and returning
Besides Momma don't need another son servin'
I gotta go cuz my time's almost up man
Alright Big Hoss, you stay up
Alright Saint
Cuz karma's got a a way of coming back and returning
Going out to Big Hoss
Moms and Pops don't need another son servin'
Shit, free to the people in power with the uniform

"Spies"

Sick and tired, the way they walk
Sick and tired, the way they talk
Sick and tired, the things they say
Sick and tired, where's my J?
Sick and tired, same old song
Sick and tired, where's my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!

Spies are all around me, Spies in every county
Spies, my head's are bounty
Snipers in the air

The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch don't like Richter's bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...

Generation X is the title they use
When I skate down MacKenzie Avenue.
Everybody that I see is lookin at me like a vandal
Maybe cause I'm (wheelin?) in some Dickies and some sandals
Man, I know what you mean when you talk about the neighborhood
The old folks always sayin that we ain't no good
Talkin to my pops about my music
Sayin we should keep it down and not abuse it
Man, I don't sweat those old ass bastards.
I just sit on the curb and with my herb and get plastered
They work all day long, they seem so bored
I think their ass should reside in the county morgue
They're postin up signs, man I think they should chill
Talkin if I don't call the cops then my neighbor will
Cause from city to city it's all the same.
The neighborhood watch is a big ass gang

Sick and tired the way they walk,
Sick and tired the way they talk
Sick and tired the things they say, sick and tired. Where's my J?
Sick and tired, same old song, sick and tired where's my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!

Spies are all around me, Spies in every county
Spies, my head's are bounty
Snipers in the air

The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch don't like Richter's bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I think they're walkin towards me, I light another...

Every night when the street lights came on
We used to gather round, take rips from that bong.
Cause John Wayne Country, republican block
A bunch of overweight housewives that wanna be cops.
Cook and clean, the life of slave
Take Kottonmouth's advice and call Jenny Craig
It's not in my control, when we were in school
Wanna see us livin life like the golden rule
Peepin out the window, folks always looking
Minding my business when they should be cooking
Bored is how their life must be,
Wait till there's a real crime on our street
That's when, yeah they'll all run and hide
Leaving Kottonmouth behind to take the neighborhood pride
When the criminals are lying dead in the streets
Kottonmouth's returning all the stolen TVs
Yeah but that's all right, it's all good
Now you know who's watchin this neighborhood
Cause from city to city it's all the same
The neighborhood watch is a bitch ass gang

Sick and tired, the way they walk
Sick and tired, the way they talk
Sick and tired, the things they say
Sick and tired, where's my J?
Sick and tired, same old song
Sick and tired, where's my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!

Spies are all around me, Spies in every county
Spies, my head's are bounty
Snipers in the air

The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch don't likeRichter's bus.
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...

"Bump"

[Intro:]
Creep, creep, I'm on the creep
The creep for the kind bud
O.C. late night, rolling in the v-dub
Sick of scraping resin so I'm looking for a sack
All I learn, I'll head for burn
BSO's got my back
Right on, right on brother, blaze on
You better rip that shit, rip it
It's that 1605 shit, real Huntington Beach
Backyard fucking, garage style

[Chorus:]
Bump, bump, bump
That's the sound of the fifteens while they're hitting in my trunk
Said bump, bump, bump
We're the Kottonmouth Kings and we don't give a fuck

[(Verse) Saint Dog:]
Well I'm that pig that the bitches talk about
Saint's what they shout, you got all the clout
A day in the life of a Kottonmouth King, 1605 (fool pass me the thing)
Now the stereo is off, I sway, push play
You hear Humble Gods from a mile away
All the heads are bobbing because the base is bumping
D-Loc is mumbling, (I got a little something)
Well he passed me a hornet and I took a sip
Sparked up a bowl and I took a rip, trip
Came to halt at an intersection
Turned up the music at my discretion
D-Loc in the back said what do I see
A jeep full of freaks just staring at me
D-Loc was right; they were in a range rover
Looked over my shoulder, I pulled them all over
They got out the car and stepped to my side
I said, hello ladies let's take a ride
I'm Saint Dog, that's D-Loc the man
Daddy X is the one that's driving the van
So climb on in and don't be shy
We're gonna close the doors and let the games be fly
Once again I said it, my name's SD
It's just another day of a P-T-B
Come on, come on

[Chorus x2]

Saint Dog putting it down for suburban pride

[(Verse) Saint Dog:]
I was living my life on a nine to five
Up early in the morning trying to survive
Chump change, it's a shame, with no education
No inspiration, no destination,
But now my occupation is to do what I like
Keep the crowd moving and rock the mic
Because if I don't rock it, then another sucker will
And if you don't jock it, then I can't pay the bills
Trick Daddy X threw me out on stage
Said Saint, represent for the underage
Same damn year, my face is up and raised
Got that ring in my nose labeled sixteen gauge

[D-Loc:]
No Saint dog, I hunt ducks with a twelve gauge
And when I'm on the stage, yes I get get real blazed
Get me on the court my skills will put you in a maze
T-T-T-twicking a twine all day
Come on, come on

[Chorus x3]

D-Loc's on the mic, rip rip shit up

[(Verse) D-Loc:]
It's the unpolitical, psychoanalytical,
Undefeated Champ that will stick you fool
My style is crazy, not wooka wakka lazy
If you chill with me I'll be sure to (blaze thee)
Plant you in the ground; let you drift like a daisy
That shit's in my system makes my life kind of hazy
My momma, my poppa, I think I should tell them
The J gots my head, and fucked up my cerebellum
It's about time to compute your math
Because my beats keep bumping like a seismograph
See I've tripped before, but never like this
Straight to my mind, put my brain in a bliss
I wont fake the funk, when I'm smoking on a skunk
That forty bowl evil got my peacock drunk
And like Mickey Mantle, I can switch my stance
I'm a supercharged baller that's electrically enhanced
My flows are silky soft, like I'm writing them in lotion
And I'm a lyricist, that's poetry in motion
To each town, to each house, I cause mass commotion
Cops smellin' money takin' off with my portion
Farewell to all and to all goodnight
I'm leaving these ?? out all night
Wait wait wait you said ?? that shit will fuck you up
Get off the ?? and rock the bump
Come on

[Chorus x1]

Biotch!

"Dogs Life"

Dog's Life (low)
Wise man he once told me
aint worth a roll
When our wheels keep spinning
I guess they broke the mold
I don't know
The life I lead is the life of a dog
I may have fleas but I run our yard
I see those clones looking down on me
But unlike those clones this dog is free
Oh lord it's a dogs life
Oh lord it's a dogs life dogs life
I'm feeling Kinda Irie
It's bubbling inside me
Straight up it's a dogs life
Way way wait
Stop that track
Lets rewind retrack pull slack and roll back
To the days when I hung with G-Mack
You got to face facts
So relap
Yo what about G-Mack?
Man it's homey Elo
Man it's cousin D-Loc
Moved into his house
And we didn't wanna be broke
So roll some smoke
I wrote rymes
Decided way back that we had good times
And we drank brews
We shot booze
Both got ladies
And broke the rules
Whether I snooze my squeeze
Clean my slate
And like a dog should
Yo I pissed on his plate
Man I' lovin southern Cali Cali
Drinkin brews in the alley
Just holding down the stages from Diego to the valley
Bustin' up my car
We gettin' lifted
As I fly goin' big at Snow Valley?
Oh lord it's a dogs life
It's a dogs life
Oh lord it's a dogs life dogs life
I'm feeling kinda ...
It's bubbling inside me
The life I lead is the life of a dog
I may have fleas but I run our yard
I aint no slave to a suit and a tie
No ratfaced clone I'll never be that guy
I aint caught up in some savage career?
I'm living in love lord not in fear I see those clones
looking down on me
But unlike those clones I man is free
Save the bone for the clones
My mentals homegrown
I'd rather be myself than live my life like a drone
If you got a job here's what i say
You'll be off to work and I'll be on my way
Skate a pipe or go dirt bike riding
You'll be punching clocks
And I'll be grinding and sliding
50-50 grinds can-cans and knack-knacks
It really don't matter cause I roam with the dog pack

Ohla in stylee these make me ...
My satisfaction when the crowd gets smiley
Behind me chanting KottonMouth Kings
Throw me on stage busting rymes blowing rings
I'm feeling kinda ....
It's bubbling inside me
Lord have mercy forgive me for my sins
I live the dogs life so how do I begin
I aint never had a dope track to write a dope rap
I started with the broke pack
Then I handled that
No full track to playback
Just my ghettoblaster I ball grip with D-Loc
Then the mic I master
Imagine I go to work on a Monday morning
While I contemplate lord what I'm doing
I might go surfing or write a song instead
I might .... or Even go back to bed
Or call down to Xland
My true bred friend
Flash the latest dub from the
Too Rude album for you
He is the man but me stylin'
But then now we're the KottonMouth Kings up on the
Too Rude rythm