Lirik Lagu Front Line - Kottonmouth Kings
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These fly rhymes and high times are brought to youby Suburban Noize.
Dloc, Saint vicious, DJ Bobby B, Pakelika.The bakers man. Bake me a cake as fast as you can.Polish up the crown then watch it shine. TheKottonmouth kings are on the frontline.
Fly Rhymes, high times suburban noizegotta be on the frontline. Zig Zags, chronic sacks,tellthe girls they been riding with some big macs.
Gettin, burnt smokin herbs, just an everyday thing in suburbsBass high, treble low, nothin but some big west coast jugalos, jugalos.Now I take 10 steps turn and break out the hoop.Grip my sack tightly cause I'm about to shoot.Wind in my ear the I can seeVoices whisper clear, "Smoke another ST."So I do I fire it up, round 1, round 2, now I'm lifted up3,4 can I stand and handle 1 more.I'm in the sky am I knockin on heavens door?Now I'm loading up the clip and I'm pullin through, Isee the little black hole that says I missed you.I can feel the expansion in my chest, I let goI'm stress free there's no worries left.my mind travels and my eyes gloss, I reminisceabout the days I hung with big hoss. An even thoughhe's locked down many still knows thatSaint Dog's got love for his big bro.Going, going gone, that's it just blazed my last sack.Case to the head so I can see black. So yo,that's that, pack me another rip so I can lay back andlet my mind start to trip.(Why me) Dloc, call me stoner of the krew. If youfuckin with my stash then I'm fuckin with you. SaintDog's got my back. "Man I thought ya knew!" Flyrhymes, high times, suburban noize comin through.
Now MaryJane, she's my girl, nowdays seems like thebitch rules my world. And everytime our lips meet,she's got me loungin like a leaf on a bud tree.You know I like to stay high. I got the old school ride.77' bug and it's white on the outside. But on theinside it's full of bitches, and ou
Dloc, Saint vicious, DJ Bobby B, Pakelika.The bakers man. Bake me a cake as fast as you can.Polish up the crown then watch it shine. TheKottonmouth kings are on the frontline.
Fly Rhymes, high times suburban noizegotta be on the frontline. Zig Zags, chronic sacks,tellthe girls they been riding with some big macs.
Gettin, burnt smokin herbs, just an everyday thing in suburbsBass high, treble low, nothin but some big west coast jugalos, jugalos.Now I take 10 steps turn and break out the hoop.Grip my sack tightly cause I'm about to shoot.Wind in my ear the I can seeVoices whisper clear, "Smoke another ST."So I do I fire it up, round 1, round 2, now I'm lifted up3,4 can I stand and handle 1 more.I'm in the sky am I knockin on heavens door?Now I'm loading up the clip and I'm pullin through, Isee the little black hole that says I missed you.I can feel the expansion in my chest, I let goI'm stress free there's no worries left.my mind travels and my eyes gloss, I reminisceabout the days I hung with big hoss. An even thoughhe's locked down many still knows thatSaint Dog's got love for his big bro.Going, going gone, that's it just blazed my last sack.Case to the head so I can see black. So yo,that's that, pack me another rip so I can lay back andlet my mind start to trip.(Why me) Dloc, call me stoner of the krew. If youfuckin with my stash then I'm fuckin with you. SaintDog's got my back. "Man I thought ya knew!" Flyrhymes, high times, suburban noize comin through.
Now MaryJane, she's my girl, nowdays seems like thebitch rules my world. And everytime our lips meet,she's got me loungin like a leaf on a bud tree.You know I like to stay high. I got the old school ride.77' bug and it's white on the outside. But on theinside it's full of bitches, and ou
