1. |
Nothing to Sell
01:46
|
|||
I've got nothing to sell except for the rap
and the fact that hip hop should be aggressive as shit.
Not in the way that it sounds
but in the way that makes you get your ass off the ground.
What the hell ever happened to fuck the police?
No cents for my sense this shit is for free like it was meant to be
This beat to me is fucking ecstasy.
The drug I love is rap to me.
I'm sorry hip-hop I know you've been through hell
so understand mother fuckers I have nothing to sell.
I got no cash, if I did you could bet it'd go for hops and grass.
I would smoke that fast, I would drink that fast
slow me down so you can understand my raps.
Understand this track is gonna prime your brain
so I can have an empty slate for the picture I paint
and all the mischief I make reflects in the genesis of lyrics I create
under my pen name. So lets take a trip right now through my brain
and out my mouth and silence all the mother fuckers that still doubt.
|
||||
2. |
For Us, Dude
00:44
|
|||
3. |
My Name Is
03:54
|
|||
I'm high.
My name is; what?
My name is; who?
My name is; nobody famous.
Hi kids, do you like marijuana?
You wanna see me take six big hits of this purple ganja?
Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did?
Weed to buy, get high, and try shrooms when the supply's right?
My brain's dead weight, I'm trying to get my head straight
but I can't figure out which way this blunt rotates.
Smugrik said, "Lil Sneezy you definitely a pot head."
Nu-uh
"You're not passing a blunt, man, that's a fucking burrito, damn."
Well, since 23 I hit the weed and I never really ever stopped
between Stephanie and Emery I got to harvest my first crop.
Finger hash from the oils. Tin foils for waterfalls.
What it boils down to is ya'll don't even got the balls
to rap over a track this mother fucking legendary.
Ya'll dipping out the back because it's mother fucking scary.
Slim's passing up the torch? Then I'ma mother fucking carry it.
Half ya'll mother fuckers mad because I'm mother fucking serious.
Hi my name is no one famous you can say you heard me first.
And the state the game of rap is in is dying slow of thirst.
I'm just here to fix it 'cause it can't get any worse
and slay these fucking rappers but their bars inside a hearse.
My anatomy teacher wanted to flunk me at OSU
Fuck you ****, take your tenure and go straight to hell.
I laughed in his face during a lecture a disgrace to all professors --
no wonder your bitch up and fucking left ya.
Walked onto the campus, high on reefer madness
flicked my roach clip like I owned the fucking business.
Extracurricular drug slang vernacular
selling dope to friends while their screaming at me:
"This weed's spectacular!"
99 percent of my life I was lied to.
It's obvious the government does more fucked up shit than I do.
I told 'em I'd grow up and become respectable
until I found out school's cost more than what's practical.
You know you fucked up when you owe 'em 50 grand
and your credit's in the red all for an education.
My public defender asked for my autograph so I signed it:
******** suck my mother fucking dick bitch.
Stop this disc! Dick riding fans get pissed!
"Don't just stand there, Slim, fucking destroy this bitch."
I'm not ready to quit, rap is barely alive.
It's fairly obvious how scarcely rappers are trying to rhyme.
Tupac and Biggie would say "Hip-hop has died."
I just smoked an 1/8 of weed; dare me to drive?
All of the time I just wanna get high,
I haven't had hash in a minute, my dependence is to high to hide.
Clothes ripped like my brain on the weekend.
I can usually depend to get high with one of my friends.
When I'm baked I get so hungry I start throwing fits:
"How the fuck do I cook Top Ramen, this shit is complex?"
I lay awake jacking-off in my bed
to thoughts about winning the lottery and having no debt, it's very sad.
Oh, and by the way, when you see OSP,
tell 'em they got fucking stabbed in a dream I fucking had.
|
||||
4. |
Damn, Dude
00:36
|
|||
5. |
||||
I've got a handful of fuckers trying to front on me
but every mother fucking thing I have is out for free.
All my raps and my jams you can't comprehend
'cause it's so damn fast slow down the speed
to cater to the masses. Adjectives synonyms with weapons bitch.
Pack a full clip of lyrics' then trigger that shit in 10 seconds.
See my rap ability is so innate
so when I rap incredibly you'll become irate.
If you think you're steadily climbing up this game
I've got news, mother fucker, you'll just have to wait
in line it's my time to shine right now.
My rhymes are timeless don't ask how.
My flows are flawless, hip-hop is hop-less
so Lil Sneezy is here to save us.
I'm a desperate youth looking for truth
at the bottom of a bottle and a dub sack, too,
with hallucinogens and mushrooms and tonic and gin
and the promise of cash if I can sling.
Shit I can do that, pack grass in a bag and sell to my friends
and cut the deficit from my college debt
or pack a TEC and point it at the teller at the closest bank.
Tell 'em hip-hop made me act so crazy.
It could be the fact these mother fuckers have me so brain washed
I continue chasing a lost cause.
I don't give a fuck if you like my shit,
suck my nuts 'cause my dick's too big.
Before you hate let me hear you spit
otherwise please shut the fuck up, bitch.
I'm fly like paper, get high like planes.
If you're looking for the ganja you should check my blood stream.
If you wanna get baked, I do it all day
I'll get one lit in a second if you wait.
I never do this shit badly
and I do this rap shit gladly,
but you're mad at me giving me advice
like you're part of my family.
Well fuck ya'll, all ya'll, if you don't like me, fuck off.
This rap to me it's like therapy when I get pissed off from shit I see.
So, yeah maybe I do smoke weed, get drunk as fuck but it's up to me.
Understand that the plan is a cap and a half of psilocybin
straight to the gut it gets undercut if you drink to much
so what you gotta do is ride it out,
which is what I do when I run my mouth.
I'm afraid I might just say to much
when I jump on the mic and spill my guts --
I can make it up and you'll eat it up
'cause you're dumb as fuck
as long as I stylize sex and drugs.
What the fuck? Do you really want me to rap that way
and make up half the shit I say?
I guess I could, it's what you want, so don't get pissed when I get rough.
|
||||
6. |
Hey Kid, I'm a Computer
00:15
|
|||
7. |
December 4th
02:51
|
|||
Let me take a minute to introduce myself,
my name is ****** and I do rap well.
And I'll tell you right now you can erase all doubt
'cause in this rap it's only facts coming out my mouth.
Let's start with the basics:
I prefer my rap beats like I prefer my women,
which means I'll take 'em stripped down first thing in the morning.
There's something in me that longs to break the law
that makes me wanna flip off every mother fucking cop.
It's in my blood, I'm not trying to say it's my father's fault --
but that's for him to tell and not for me to spill,
suffice to say my father saw some people killed
and I'll just leave it at that
I learned real fast not to fuck with Dad, but where was I at?
OSU
Two years ago if you opened the door
to the place that I considered home away from home,
I shit you not, you'd convict six felons
'cause the amount of weed we had was considered selling.
But the crazy thing though was all the 'dro
was the personal amount that we'd all smoke.
So that was felony number 1, let's move on to 2
and it has to deal with marijuana on the move.
Yeah I got my connects, got a 1/2 ounce sack
for a hundred green backs, put it in a vacuum bag,
then I used the government to mail that shit
and it ended up in coffee with my cousin in Kansas.
You see it's not against the law until you get caught
and you'd probably guess that drugs would be my downfall
Nope.
An unlocked bike, with no chain to ride
in the middle of a fucking parking lot at night.
It's been left 2 weeks and my god damn feet
tell me let's not walk 7 days a week.
So I lift that bike and I get it repaired
and on the first day of Spring the fucking pigs are there.
It's fucking OSP, so what that means
are bitch-made mother fuckers that are packing heat.
Men with no honor -- never mind that the victim didn't wanna press charges, never mind that the school even gave me a pardon.
So on my court date, it was me vs. the state,
and my public defender was ten minutes late
the first time that we met. And I even dropped 400 bucks for that shit.
And that stupid dumb bitch didn't bother to mention
about deferment for a minor misdemeanor offences.
So the day I got sentenced we stood in front of the judge,
and she said plead guilty it's the best option for us.
And the judge said to her, right after the case:
"I bet you can't wait to get out of this place"
She said, "Yup it's my vacation this one's my last"
and they both looked at each other and just started to laugh.
That's why I hate the system, it's all fucked up
it's like their own a mission to lock you up.
It's so corrupt. I guess it's human nature to be greedy as fuck.
And if you make it out alive it's just pure luck.
'Cause how in the fuck can I mail weed?
And how in the fuck is my attorney,
costing me so much money?
Isn't it supposed to be for free?
I went to school of school loans,
I did my time though, and now I feel better.
And my public defender I hope she burns forever.
And that stupid fucking judge, I hope she burns with her.
|
||||
8. |
Jellybeans, Man
00:42
|
|||
9. |
||||
Welcome to the Banshee Zone, it's my second home.
I'm getting fucked up, baked, or a little bit of both, yo.
I can tell you understand, that I'm a marijuana man.
No, I don't sling weed, but I'll happily smoke some of your shit for free.
You can catch me upstairs blowing fat smoke rings --
like I was the mother fucking caterpillar in Alice's dreams.
So my, flow is so strange and it's maybe insane
but it's just the Mary Jane going straight to my brain.
And I can see that you're eyeballing the joint;
or maybe this bong, blunt, or dutch but:
Did you puff puff pass? 'Cause you gotta smoke with class.
You better be fucking careful where you're spilling that ash.
And you better be nice and offer up the last pass
to any of the bad-ass broads that live in the house.
See this upstairs is like a rabbit hole.
'Cause mother fuckers know when they leave they'll be so damned stoned. It's like, Woah, I just got my mind so blown.
Like the shit I used to smoke from Steph and Em's home grown, fuck.
Should we do a roof beer sesh? Someone bring that hash.
If not, we can get a knife and scrape that glass clean.
It's the Banshee Z-O-N-E
and we load that W-E-E-D
until we're H-I-G-H-E-R than kites
we might just chill all night, right,
or uncap a fifth
get crazy as shit
fucked up and lit
wild out a bit
and I don't understand what the problem is, officer?
What you want, to bust up this bash?
Yeah I see your badge, but with all due respect, sir:
You can kiss my ass.
|
||||
10. |
||||
11. |
||||
Down the rabbit hole mother fucker we go
and we'll be switching up our trips with caps and grass clips
like natural acid, an entheogenic trip
I haven't got my hands on any mescaline yet.
But that's ok, there ain't no rush
take your time rolling that joint with a zig-zag crutch.
Bust open that bag with the magic mushrooms
I need to get this down before the weed plateaus soon.
I'm cleaning out the corners of my feeble mind
going through the looking glass, see what's on the other side.
The design inside questions my minds eye
why time flies by and my actions are still.
Look, I'm not trying to say that every drug's the best;
don't twist my words, bitch, that's not what I said.
You gotta use your head, yeah flex that brain,
or are you gonna blindly follow what the government's saying.
They ain't nothing but men, writing down the law
and like all men they follow the cash flow.
So, what you gotta do is give 'em the finger
every time these mother fuckers try to caution there's danger
when you puff that grass, or have a trip, shit.
What there really scared of is that you're using your head
and that you're gonna call 'em out on all of their bullshit.
Well, it's what they deserve and what they're gonna get quick.
|
||||
12. |
Cooter Slap
00:21
|
|||
13. |
Sleepyhead
03:41
|
|||
I once had a sleepyhead in my home
'cause every time she came over, man, we'd get stoned.
She'd smoke us out, then pass the fuck out,
then wake up in the morning on the mother fucking couch.
Man, I miss that house, it was so legit.
It even had a smoke room that could fit six.
So we passed it on like a stoner should
that's why this song's all about smoking bud.
410 on my mind 420 in my blunt.
How many fucking times did we get lit up?
How many fucking times where we high as fuck,
upstairs in the room with the one door shut.
Then there was that one party, that one Halloween
where we hot-boxed so hard we could hardly breath.
How many fucking times did we get high,
on the mother fucking roof in the middle of the night?
Scrape that glass clean, if you run out of weed.
Grind that pack that lighting up the green;
smoke that pass that no camping;
ghost that hold that exhaling.
On 420 410 had a visit.
My physics friend Steph brought a free joint with her.
All thing considered, those potlucks, damn.
Left me so fucking high I could hardly stand.
And my weed connects, are still friends first
so the herb that I purchase keeps my friend's business afloat.
And I don't mind, I want them to thrive,
bag that smoke that means that they survive.
Then there was that one time I was high as fuck,
took two steps out the door and thought I was lost.
We smoke 'til were squinting,
we smoke 'til were grinning,
'til we don't understand what the fuck we've been saying.
Pi squared, we running the rap shit.
Mind Patrol records producing my rap shit.
The 410 house is hitting the hashish.
When you wrap weed and bag it in plastic well that's it.
|
||||
14. |
Thirsty
00:08
|
|||
15. |
||||
I was walking down the street when out the corner of my eye
I saw a hippie with these dreds approaching me.
She said, "I've never seen a man who looks so all alone,
could you use a little bit of weed?
If you could pay the right price, you'd be super fucking high
or you can go and send me on my way."
"What about free love, do I really have to pay for the herb?"
She turned and she looked at me and said:
There ain't no weed for the wicked
and money don't grow on trees.
I've got bills to pay I gotta purchase seeds,
there ain't nothing in this world for free.
You know I can't slow down
I can't hold back, though you know I wish I could.
There ain't no weed for the wicked
until we legalize for good.
I don't really got any cash right now,
so could you front just for a while?
I'll smoke a little bit then sling the rest,
sell that dope and charge interest.
She dropped 1/2 an ounce and said beware,
you try and run I'll find you anywhere.
Of course I wont, I was so sincere
and a little bit scared 'cause she had a gun.
As soon as she left, you know I toked up
with a Bible page as a blunt.
I don't really know what happened next
that chronic went straight to my head.
I woke up later in a parking lot
that bag of weed was all but gone.
Well, what the fuck am I gonna do?
I'ma rob a store to pay my dues.
*Crazy man swings bat.
So I see this girl, this hippie girl,
and I pay back what I owe her.
She looks so sad, I ask, "what's wrong?"
Shes says the store that she owns
was broken in by a crazy man
with a bat and he took the cash.
So at this point I'm starting to sweat,
and I see her reaching for her gat.
Do I start to run or throw a punch?
I don't wanna hit a woman but,
what the fuck am I supposed to do?
Play it cool and I'll get away
There's no damn way she knows it was me
unless she has closed circuit TV
she grabs my neck pulls out her gun and says
"I'm sorry, son, you're done."
|
||||
16. |
Facenook, Huh
00:14
|
|||
17. |
The Recipe
04:55
|
|||
So what's the recipe for success?
In PDX, well it's opiates.
Ecstasy and countless sex.
Coke uncut, gripping on your nuts,
screaming at the world you don't give a fuck.
Dre done did it,
Jay done did it,
Ye, Eminem, Kdot, done did it.
And you have to admit it, yeah it's something innit?
From shit to quips to filthy rich
and bad bitches all up on your dick.
Shallow as shit, flush with cash.
Flash that green to get that ass.
Put food on your plate, your chick in a Bape;
earn that bread to take that cake.
Update your spread so you can make
a mother fucking statement with your payments
while you wallow in your shit 'cause you fucking hate this.
No one in your clique is real legit
so when it goes tits-up you know you fucked up
and the irony, as far as I can see,
is that you wanna be real but that shit don't sell,
so you gotta rap about some bitch you killed.
At the end of the day, it don't mean shit,
'cause cash rules everything around me, bitch.
You might catch me with a bong getting high as fuck
or pouring down a fifth of whisky, neat or on the rocks.
If it's after five o'clock then I'm cross faded as fuck
but that's just how it is on the left coast, west coast, best coast for us.
Women, weed, and strippers.
Don't it sound better, we're what's next;
what more can I say, that's just PDX.
So, what's the recipe for success?
A Bachelor's a Master's and constant stress?
Bingen' on the weekend and a handful of ex
to disconnect from the rest
of your mother fucking life debt up to your neck.
Four walls and a roof. Sedan or a coupe.
The same neck tie and a cheap-ass suite.
Bitch next to me says mediocrity,
is the mother fucking reason she'll be leaving me.
'Cause the bags and the Prada and designer shit
and the weekend trips to dealership
make her legs spread for some old dude's dick.
And I'm the hypocrite 'cause I wanna quit
my relationship with this two-faced bitch?
Say "stay for the kids," that her guilt trip.
And you know I did, not once not twice, but three times now.
'Cause I thought I found the one so I settled down.
Just goes to show, you never know with hoes
so I don't slow my roll when I see a trick.
I go tit for tat, I don't give a shit.
I won't fall for that or forgive a bitch.
So if a scheming skank wants to snake the bank
I don't make no time for the waste of space.
Don't fuck with me, or front to me
or try to bring audacity
'cause I'm skeptical, don't play the fool.
And I don't really give a fuck what it means to you.
If you ever gave a fuck then ya'll feel me, too.
If you really wanna step and fill these shoes,
I guarantee you they'll be lots of room.
Go fuck yourself.
Go cut yourself.
This mother fucking song isn't all about self-help bitch.
So what's the recipe for success?
I don't fucking know I'm a god damn mess.
Quick to quip, shit wit to spare.
Just sip the fifth 'til the truth appears.
Equipped when tipsy to quickly emcee
and put the fear.
Just flipped the script on this crazy bitch who
grips a pistol, points the shit at a blood or crip and pistol whips, too.
Ignorant son of a bitch doesn't even understand
what the fuck I says and maybe you, too
need to rewind my lyrics'
'cause I'm so damn quick, ten steps ahead
your brain probably just can't process.
And I don't really mind the simplistic shit.
If I rhyme complex ya'll won't get it.
Dumb down the raps to increase my stats,
got everybody asking "Who the fuck is that?"
"What the fuck he say?"
"No one in the game's that sick today."
"And no one in the game even raps that way."
What I gotta focus on is audience retention
'cause non ya'll dumb fucks pay attention
did I mention your intelligence is a bit too slow
bitch I'll leave you breathless. I know you're restless.
Apathetic paralytics is our gen's venom
a pathetic pair of legs put some movement in 'em
adrenaline right in 'em.
And I don't understand what the problem is,
but a solution is: fuck the government.
But let's be real 'cause non ya'll even know how to feel.
Lend me your ear and give me a minute.
Let me spit this script 'til I'm fucking finished.
|
||||
18. |
Lil Sneezy Oregon
I don't know what the fuck is happening.
Go to "Buy Now" and input $0 to get this shit fo' free.
Streaming and Download help
If you like Lil Sneezy, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp