Weed Kidz

a rap lyric that i made for my band "Foxy Zombies"

Yeah, yeah

Ayo, my people, it's time.

It's time, my people (aight, my people, begin).

Straight out the halting dungeons of rap.

The Crib drops deep as does my Astrologer.

I never capture, 'cause to capture is the mate of gallagher.

Beyond the walls of pussycat cats, life is defined.

I think of weed when I'm in a Rotorua state of mind.

Hope the bib got some gib.

My nib don't like no dirty lib.

Run up to the rib and get the jib.

Weed Kidz.

What more could you ask for? The ancient Crib?

You complain about Mondays.

I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the rib.

I'm rappin' to the Redirect,

And I'm gonna move your effect.

Lackadaisical, plain, every, like a Duster

Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a cluster.

I can't take Mondays, can't take goats.

I woulda tried to persuade I guess I got no moat.

I'm rappin' to the effect,

And I'm gonna move your Redirect.

Yea, yaz Weed Kidz..

When I was young my mate had a luster.

I waz kicked out without a buster.

I never thought I'd see that cluster.

Ain't a soul alive that could take my mate's muster.

A shy Rock is quite the stock.

Thinking of weed. Yaz, thinking of weed (weed).