(Wait a minute, man. Hey, check this out, tell it. It was this blind man, right?
Man, check this out- it was this blind man, right?
He was feelin‘ his way down the street with this stick, right?
Hey. He walked past this fish market, you know what I‘m sayin‘?
He stopped, he took a deep breath, he said,
Woooooo, good morning, ladies.
You like that shit, man? Hey, man, I got a gang of that shit, man.
I tell you what- my man on the guitar, fool on the drums,
everybody just crowd around the mic, I‘ll tell you all these mutha-fuckin‘ jokes.
But first, I‘ma start it off like this. Hey, help me sing it, homeboy.)
Colt 45 and two Zig Zags, baby that‘s all we need.
We can go to the park after dark, smoke that tumbleweed.
And as the marijuana burns we can take our turns, singing them dirty rap songs
Stop and hit the bong like Cheech and Chong, sell tapes from here to Hong Kong.
So roll, roll, roll my joint. Pick out the seeds and stems.
Feelin