Both as a standalone and as part of the DSOTS album, you can take this lyric as read. As a matter of public record, Jourgensen's drug intake was legendary even in the 1980s. By the late 90s, in his own words, he was grappling with massive addiction issues and had lost almost everything: friends, spouse, money and had nearly died more than once. "Dark Side of the Spoon" is a both funny & sad title for an album made by a musical genius who was losing the plot; and this song is a message to his fans & friends saying he knows it. It's painful to listen to so I'm glad the "Keith Richards of industrial metals" wised up and cleaned up. Well done sir.
Bis-Mi-Allah A-Rahman A-Rahim
(To the Gods, to the Gods, to the Earths)
Pass that shit homey
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulging
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
Zoom, from outer space he comes
Blunt in his mouth with his hand on his gun
Bitches flapping they gums, do he be clapping and shooting guys
Actor or a movie star, rapper revolutionized
What is his race nation or creed?
Is he Arabic, black, lating, Asian they read
Magazines say I walked on water, talked to the heavens
Spit at judges, stepped on peasants
But in reality, I just entered your galaxy
September '73, up in these wild streets
Fuckin these wild freaks, a harem of hoes (God damn)
And my mystique got 'em tearing my clothes
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulginh
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
My nigga smoke with one lung
If he cough he might die, passing me trees
The liquor bottle's almost empty
We about to collide, with the enemy
Only way you die if it's meant to be
You fucking with a general
No discussion is the principle we busting it's the end of you
Now we knocking on your mama door
Like we cam to fix the sink, my kind of war
Death, angels coming for you
Spirit horse running from your body like Young Guns 1 and 2
Paramedics fighting for you, who's gon' win?
The hands of time, or the hands of medicine
Don't cry, witness your fate, this is your wake
Walk by your casket, spit in your face
Enter the fog dog, the light is your guide
And when you're gone all your niggas gon' light it with Nas
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulging
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
Pardon but I gotta question of life now
Look at the nigga next to you right now
Is he real, fake or scared
Do it like this niggas right hands in the air
Ball it to a fist and put it over your heart
Now let's say it all together let the ceremony start
I shall, stay real stay true stay holding figures
Never put a bitch over my niggas
I shall never, cooperate with the law
Never snake me I always hold you down in war
If they take one of mine, I take one of theirs
I never break the oath to the death I swear
I swear that's how we pledge allegiance, to the alliance
Of underworld's killers and thugs, though the science
Of a nigga still yet to be found
So light up some green, and pass it around (just pass it around)
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulging
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
(To the Gods, to the Gods, to the Earths)
Pass that shit homey
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulging
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
Zoom, from outer space he comes
Blunt in his mouth with his hand on his gun
Bitches flapping they gums, do he be clapping and shooting guys
Actor or a movie star, rapper revolutionized
What is his race nation or creed?
Is he Arabic, black, lating, Asian they read
Magazines say I walked on water, talked to the heavens
Spit at judges, stepped on peasants
But in reality, I just entered your galaxy
September '73, up in these wild streets
Fuckin these wild freaks, a harem of hoes (God damn)
And my mystique got 'em tearing my clothes
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulginh
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
My nigga smoke with one lung
If he cough he might die, passing me trees
The liquor bottle's almost empty
We about to collide, with the enemy
Only way you die if it's meant to be
You fucking with a general
No discussion is the principle we busting it's the end of you
Now we knocking on your mama door
Like we cam to fix the sink, my kind of war
Death, angels coming for you
Spirit horse running from your body like Young Guns 1 and 2
Paramedics fighting for you, who's gon' win?
The hands of time, or the hands of medicine
Don't cry, witness your fate, this is your wake
Walk by your casket, spit in your face
Enter the fog dog, the light is your guide
And when you're gone all your niggas gon' light it with Nas
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulging
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
Pardon but I gotta question of life now
Look at the nigga next to you right now
Is he real, fake or scared
Do it like this niggas right hands in the air
Ball it to a fist and put it over your heart
Now let's say it all together let the ceremony start
I shall, stay real stay true stay holding figures
Never put a bitch over my niggas
I shall never, cooperate with the law
Never snake me I always hold you down in war
If they take one of mine, I take one of theirs
I never break the oath to the death I swear
I swear that's how we pledge allegiance, to the alliance
Of underworld's killers and thugs, though the science
Of a nigga still yet to be found
So light up some green, and pass it around (just pass it around)
Now tell me what y'all smoking
What kinda heat y'all holdin'
Well is your creep move potent
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
We bi-coastin, keeping our pockets bulging
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Want to get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Lyrics submitted by spliphstar
Smokin' Lyrics as written by Nasir Jones Larry Gates
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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