There's a blue bird on my shoulder There's a blue bird on my shoulder There's a blue bird on my shoulder There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Back on the scene Crispy and clean Theses two niggas with a glock 17 Can I give a fuck cuz u might catch a buck You fucking with a nigga doing pussy like chuck Me I'm a G triyin to stay sucka free The nigga nigga Black from the P-O-doubleS-E Test me When I'm on the jacket One time when was rolling deep when it's time for some action Now I'm actin, shhh Keep it on the down low, Run yo run yo, ass out the motha fucka town yo And there's a blue bird on my shoulda so I gotts to drop it to the beat and Run this bitch ass over Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder It still gets deeper and deeper The deeper in this game that they get they got these young niggas Up in six Letting loose on a nigga Even if they figured you was bigger they will still be your grave digger Time keeps on ticking My babys getting older and her momas steady tripping Saying I'm alwasy with my click And she be like "you make me, you make me sick" From rags to riches Now a lot of niggas don't fuck with no bitches Riding with a fifty block glock Sellin folder a soldiers with a blue bird on the shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder I watch you slip, slip, slip, slip then fall And make my hand go into your pocket and into some market store Cuz a nigga gota keep some long nubs so I be in the projects like a does Like my name is Jail So what the hell I think I gotta let that shit go trying to make a rapper Come up off a funky floor I didn't know, yo That shit wouldn't come that easily, shit record companys think I'm pussy cuz They all try to beat me Excuse me Ladys hood rats do it daily Coppin my niggas fame and tellin my homies "baby" This shit don't got nobody gettin hurt And best beleive my first visit is gunna be that punk ass blue bird Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Patrolling city bustin putting niggas into cust. Bunch of sucka trying to ask "where they pick up shit" Like deoterant be tellin I be holding it I beat that out like clean clothes and watch me start folding shit And cut that out like bender twice I'm nothing nice I'm still stressing cuz of the frisk cold ice But the better have they nike shoes on Cuz them high tech boots in the wrong shoes for the drugs On the go You wont catch me, so don't let me Pull out my gat on you dogs that you sent to fetch me I'll have them puppies dropping like chirps and come back out the corner Store and start busting at the blue bird Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it Man there's a blue bird on my shoulder can I kill it There's a blue bird on my shoulder

[Mac Dre Talking] Where am I? I smell fire. Who got that fire? Fire. I don't smoke that brown. Al Capone. I don't like that shit. I don't like that shit. I need fire, who got fire? Real pimp. Yo nigga. It's yo nigga. Roll something up. Smokin'. Roll something up. Lets get to flowin'. (Go herd). [Verse 1: Mac Dre] I'm at the licker store gettin' more blunts for the skunk. Hit the block in the chev I got thump in the trunk. Feeling good off the wood in the hood and I'm fizz 'em. Kind of annoyed they always trying to take a boy back to prison. They hate to see a playa, employ yourself. They hate to see a playa, enjoy yourself. When I'm (side?) want a ride, then playa lets go. I'm 29 with many rimes and love at soul. I'm a ho, Bust it raw with the words I serve. Every tape I make baby learns the words. Young Mac Dre, got to give to get. Hate a reasy who give easy like she look at some zags. I'm on the celli telli trying to get some roll from Nelly. Need it very smelly, fitin to go chunk for the telli. It's on, fitin to go blow a zone to the dome. Tone Capone got the bong in this bomb weed song. [Chorus] Fire. Puffin' the smoke in the air. Blowin' it big like a playa playa. Fire. Cheech and Chong on a spree. Blowin' it big, come smoke with me. Fire. Puffin' the smoke in the air. Blowin' it big like a playa playa. Fire. Cheech and Chong on a spree. Blowin' it big, come smoke with me. [Verse 2: Young leech] Every day in the life as G (Westside) we be trifling and we, Are likely to see niggaz aint likein' me. Them pimped out gangsta-ism tactics, Spinnin' all over my gun like a blacksmith. Them bitches belligerent actor, see the chiropractor. But I crack yeah neck, back to the scene. Blow 'em to smithereens like the things I done seen. In my everyday smoking out ritual, regular ooh thing. Walking down the street with a gangsta limp and demon jeans. Me and some squalls, and smile (bling, bling). I just want to lean. Why I don't chugalug this 40. Then jump in block park homie for the block smok-ie. With the O-G, Mac Dre, kill-a Cali parlay, parlay. Smoking the ounce of that bomb bay every day. Puffin' the smoke in the air. Blowin' it big like a playa playa. [Chorus] [Verse 3: Mac Dre] I need narcotics, that goo-e and stanky. When I aint got it, I'm moody and cranky. What the dilly, what's really, what's down that filly? We can old school with a zag, blow bags in the dilly? Is you silly? Never throw the dubbe away. Lace no dank when you're blowin' with Dre. Trying to cope with this stress, so I blow big. How can the bulletproof vest protect my wig? See them cutthoat fools, done changed the roles. The public got it twisted and we blame the news. Got game for fools, 'Cause I hang with fools, That got game to use, And maintain the roles. Keep it real dog, but represent what's rite. Be a real hog when you bless the mic. Smoke big live long, and get yo pringles. Young Learch and Mac Dre making hit rap singles. [Chorus to fade with Mac Dre talking] Killea. Rapper gone bad. Smoking them big gads. Uh. Keep it bouncing. I told 'em, can't hold 'em. 2000. Feel it bitch. Yeah. Mac Dre boy. [Young Learch] Wicked Learch if you didn't know and Mac Dre. Playa playa! And that broke you. Yeah. My nigga Snipes off in the building. Out that fillin'. That new millennium shit. Tone Capone pass the bong it's on my nigga. Yeah. They can't fuck with this. They can't fuck with this. They can't fuck with this. Uh. I'm back boy. Clear the lane I'm going to the hole. All in your bootie hoe. Groupie.