Lyrics - People in Oakland...Oakland Woo, see I'm ridin higher and higher, woo-oo Kinda broke so ya know all I gots five, I got five (VERSE 1) Player, give me some brew an I might just chill, but I'm the type that like to light another joint Like Cypress Hill I'm steal doobies spit loogies when I puff on it, I got some bucks on it, but it ain't enuff on it go get the S-t. I-d-e-s never the less, I'm hella Fresh, rollin joints like a cigarrette so pass it cross the table like Ping Pong, I'm gone, beatin my chest like King Kong, it's on, wrap my lips around a 40, and when it comes to get another stogie, fools all kick in like Shinobi no, me ain't my homie to begin with, it's too many heads to be poppin at my friend hit it unless you pull out the phat, crispy five dollar bill on the real before its history cos fools be havin the vaccum lungs, an if you let em hit it for free, you hellar "dum-dum-dum-dum" I come to school with a taylor on my earlobe avoidin all the thick teasers, skeezers, and weirdos I be blowin up the land like where tha bomb at? give me two bucks, you take a puff, and pass my bomb back suck up the dank like a slurpy the serious bomb will make a nigge go delirous like Eddie Murphy I got more growin pains than Maggie cos homies nag me, to take the dank out of the baggie 1-I got five on it, grab your 40, let's get keyed I got five on it, messin wit that Indo weed I got five on it, it's got me stuck and not go back I got five on it, potna lets go half on a sack (VERSE 2) I take sacks to the face, whenever I can, don't need no cruch I'm so keyed up, till the joint be burnin my hand next time I roll it in a hampa (slang for hav-a-tampa cigars) to burn slo, so the ashes won't be burnin up my hand, bra hoochies can hit, but they know they got to pitch in, then I roll a joint that's longer than your extension cos I'll be damned if you get high off me for free hell no, you betta bring your own spliff, chief wassup, don't make me sip that, better pass the JOINT! stop hittin cos you know ya got Asthma crack a 40 open, homie, an guzzel it, cos I know the weed in my system is gettin lonley I gotta take a whiz test to my P-O I know how I failed cos I done smoked major weed bro, an everytime we with Chris that fool rollin up a fattie, but the Tanqueray straight had me (repeat 1) (VERSE 3) (2)hey, make this right man, stop at the light man, my yester night thang got me hung off the night train you fade, i face so let's head to da east hit the stroll to 9-0 so we can roll big, hot sheets I wish I could fade the ache but I'm no budget, still rollin a 2 door cutglass, same 'ole bucket foggy windows, soggy Indo, I'm in tha land gettin smoked wit my kinfolk (1)been smoked, yuk'll, the sprayer lay it down,(yuk stands for yukmouth) up in the OAK the Town homies don't play around, we down to blaze a pound then eaz up, speed up through the ESO drink the V.S.O.P. P up with the lemon squeeze up and everybody's rolled up, I'm da rolla that's quick to fold a blunt out of a buncha sticky dosia hold up, suck up my weed as all you do kick in feed, cause where I be's we need tab like a foo-foo This Is NOT my video . No copyrights intended . Just love this song so I uploaded it.