The Chronic

I'm a diamond in the rough,
picking up the mic and then I'm riding with the funk
Driving with no license, mad divey off the skunk
Got high grade in the trunk and then I put it in the blunt like uh oh
Pass it to my people
Men are getting irie off the kind named Chiesel
Peaceful, almost too high to try and beef you
But if you step in my lane I might beat you
Much more likely, it's been nice to meet you
Got the key to the game in my brain
I may be who doubted me
Never getting nothing here outta me
Changed form like alchemy
Ain't Michael J., but might hang you off the balcony
Dangle by your ankles to the cameras that were out for me
Ain't very PC, but gotta break the boundary
Do it so astoundingly
Swagger in my step so you know you gotta bounce with me

I got the C-H-R-O-N-I-C, yeah the chronic
I blow it up like atomics
I got the F-L-O-W mad dope for the microphone harmonics
Make you move like the Earth tectonic plates
It's so great, so euphoric

God knows, never would've been a worker
9 to 5 tie and shirter
Mac D's, flippin' burgers
Ever since a younger, brought the thunder, that's a circus
Lifestyle's wild like mothers on the gurners
Big up the writers dropping burners
Bricky down to Picadilly Circus is murder
Piff will linger when The Four Owls surface
Raw sound emerges
Knock you off your plot like gentrification occurring
Never do a statement for the cops, I gotta swerve it, it's worth it
Just say "no comment, officer"
When it comes to chronic, yeah, you know I be a connoisseur
If it ain't on point, I won't bother holla ya
When I see my dealer, ask for more like I'm Oliver
He sort me out and pass the package like a courier
Ain't got no time to play with snakes
like Nokia, you know what? I'm onto ya

I got the C-H-R-O-N-I-C, the chronic
I blow it up like atomics
I got the F-L-O-W mad dope for the microphone harmonics
Make you move like the Earth tectonic plates
It's so great, so euphoric



Credits
Writer(s): William Warden Leigh, Alexander Gerrard Whitehead
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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