Life ain't what it seems, it ain't no fucking dream. So get a grip upon your shit and make sure your pipe's clean.
When I drink brews put a crown on my royal Kottonmouth Kings make a pipe outta foil Put a grip to my lip, dip it in honey oil. Smoke it to the butt put it out in the soil. Damn Saint Dog, I'm outta weed again, "I feel ya" Pockets lookin thin ain't got a dime to spend! Big Hoss is in the pen, yes he's doing 10 "Fuck the system!" I smoke a cigarette and try to comprehend. Judicial system got me wishing I was president I got a grudge against the judgement that's irrelevant. I write a rhyme to attract and show intelligence Shit, every other night I'm getting hella bent. I roll my skate to relate to this society, society No money in my pockets cause they lied to me, "lied to me too!" No papers to my name too, see my bong broke, bong broke I guess that's why they call me crazy D-Loc.
Life ain't what it seems, it ain't no fucking dream. So get a grip upon yo shit and make sure yo pipes clean.
When I grow buds I put keefe on my soil Put the green in the bing then I make my water boil. Alcohol and rice roll nice with the coil Evian in my bong so my water don't spoil. Damn Loc-Dog I'm outta drink again, "I feel ya!" Buzz lookin slim, I need a Heineken, "A Heineken!" My bro's locked down doin 9 or 10, "Fuck that!" Step back, I'm bout to crack, can you comprehend?
Placentia City got me witty on this way of life. I shot a duck, skin it with my knife There's a zone in my dome called the twilight I'm down for my crown each and every night Well I keep my tolerance, stay inside my flow Make ya say damn bro I got to go to a show! Life ain't what it seems, it ain't a dream and I ain't playing. But I'm Saint Vicious and Daddy X is saying
Life ain't what it seems, it ain't no fucking dream. So get a grip upon yo shit and make sure yo pipes clean.
Now when a read a mag put a grand on my royal Government lies yo they make my water boil. R.I.P. to my peeps 6 feet in the soil. Riverside hometown represent, stay loyal. No money for the skate no change for the tax Went surfin with no keefe but forgot the sex wax. Have a purple friend to help ya to relax. A one-foot glass called the paramax. Now afternoon to you is my morning I wake up hit the roach and then I'm snoring Outta bed around 3 take 7 BT's Like DJ Rob Harris kid I'm soaring' I pertains an ill congested vibe Makes ladies strive for my bozak Addicted like Prozac. You know that I track em like Lojak. I'm slicker and quicker; I'll stick ya like Kojak. I'm alone upon this rhyme that I've created. This world that I've inflated, won't trade i t so gimme my space. Government controls so they hated Our life that has been jaded and faded We're getting erased.
Life ain't what it seems, it ain't no fucking dream. So get a grip upon yo shit and mak e sure yo pipes clean.
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