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Up In Smoke Lyrics - Singles - Cuban Link

Yo,.lyrical murda on wax, what!? 

Still gettin high, puffin' that la, 

Yeah, Terror Squad, Blunt Records, 

Check this shit out, 

Cuban Link.. wha.. 


Yo, i'm up in smoke, 

Puffin' cho-co-la-te, ta-te queto 

I rock my flow, and knock it out just like Jose Canseco 

So take off like Delta, run for shelta 

Theres no helper here, you felt of it 

L be servin niggas like Mr. Belvadere 

I twist an L, sip a beer here and there 

Drink some liquor then pick a stripper that I can rip and tear, yeah 

Come hear the sounds of a rookie fromt he boogie down 

Used to be a shorty but guess whos givin nukkies now 

So clown if you got the heart 

Start some bullshit, it's your bid 

A bullet through your skull from my full clip 

I pull triggas givin niggas hell, like I'm sittin, 

Fake a move, punk, and i'll run you over like Walter Payton 

Makin hits, my cliques, makin moola 

Like Don Shula, nothin's coola 

Than puffin on a phat blunt from Cu-ba 


I smoke more blunts than a little bit, 

What are you an idiot? 

The more I smoke, 

The smaller my phillie get 

I smoke more blunts than a little bit, 

What are you an idiot? 

Wake up in the mornin, got me yearnin for herb! 


Start the buddah session, 

True confessions, spark the cu' up, 

Cu' be where the supa-fly's, buddahfied, 

Even in a suit n tie, 

Cruisin though the 5 boroughs wit live thorough, 

Niggas that like to smoke they Hydro in front of 5-0, 

Yo Manolo shoot that piece of chit, Chichi get the yayo, 

While I pay Frank a visit, but the bisquit to his cuello, 

Ey yo, this fuckin blunt's got me buggin, 

I be thuggin it out, like Noreaga playin, 

You aint sayin nothing, bustin rappers like adreneline, 

Puttin venom in'em, 

Put'em on stage, for minimum wage, to graves is where i send'em 

Hem'em up like a party dress 

Terror Squad is as hard as it gets 

Rippin your heart out your chest 

Spark the cess, chickenheads stressin the sex 

Wanna jump up in the Lex, twin, when they see me wit the best 

Twisted up the dutch, a little Tony's Touch 

Let'em work the clutch while i lite the bliz up 

On a highway wit this big fucka 

Gettin high like Chris Tucker on Friday, hit it my way 

Like Frank Sinatra, lite up at the opera 

When the cops come show the prescription from the docta 

I puff cause I got ta' 

This stuff from the rasta's 

Get enough love in the Bronx, from Italians wit all the pasta 

John Blazin, keep the tree's blazin 

You think a lil weed gonna fuck with my cordination?? 


Wha wha.. 


Haha.. yeah.. 

Blunted for life.. Blunt Records, 

Triple Seis, 


Fat Ji-Doe, 

Don Cartigina, 

Fulla-clips, wha what, 

Cuban Link'in it, 

Artie's,.. yeah, 

Wha wha.. real niggas.. 


Yea nigga.. this how we do. 

Writer: , , ,

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group