ABK

ABK - Sticky Icky Situation lyrics

(feat. Blaze Ya Dead Homie, Esham, Violent J)

[Verse 1: Anybody Killa]

My teacher always said I wouldn't be nothin'

So I met him in the parking lot said "I'ma killer" and then I rushed him

Sometimes I feel like a nut

Runnin' through the neighborhood, tearin' shit up

Straight jackin' motherfuckers just to smoke a blunt

Sometimes I feel that my head fucked up, and it really sucks

I hear voices tellin' me to do it (Do it)

How would you act if you had to live through it?

Turnin' back on the gat, and I stole me an ounce

Now I'm addicted to the sound of a head gettin' whacked

Do I smoke too much, cause I choke too much?

Are you mad cause I keep stealin' your roaches bro

Yo Mike P! (Yo what's up?) Turn my headphones up

Rude Boy got me stoned from the sticky stuff

Weed's fuckin' with my head, man I'm too damn high

Yo Violent J, you want the rest? (Show you right!)

Man I can smell it in yo pocket (Roll it up)

Sandwich bag filled up like you ain't got enough

Always smoke with your road dogs, don't be shy

Cause when a drought comes, he might be yo main supply

Me and J steady smokin' pounds

So at least have a sack when you see us around (Biatch!)

Like you ain't heard, man we flippin' the scripts

So unlock yo ziplock and let me grab us a spliff

[Verse 2: Blaze Ya Dead Homie]

When I pass it to you, bitch pass it back

Bitches don't smoke for free, where the ass be at?

B-L-A-Z-E, ABK

And we got Esham and Violent J

Juggalos outside in the parking lot

Because y'all know how we get sparked a lot

Got the Faygo Cola with the Vodka twist

And when we all get together we see diamond mist

[Verse 3: Violent J]

I could smoke a stick of dynamite and not be dead (POP!)

I like it cause it fuck with my head

I stay weeded indeed, a killa need it

I can eat it to feed it, proceed and keep it heated

Now who the fuck don't like my flow?

You ain't heard my words will make the beard of a wiseman grow

Hydro, in a good way it fuck with my head

And without it you fucks would be dead

I rhymed dead and head for the 17th time

We double team rhymes, ABK and Violent J

If I loved Shaggy anymore I'd have to be gay

In Californ-i-a, they pull they socks to they knees

NIA, Ninjas In Action we be deez

I like cheese, I'm a serial pleez

I bitch slap fans cause I be a dick like that

I get wicked-wicky-wicky rhymes sick like that

I'm fat and fuzzy and I smell like weed everywhere

My homies call me Smokey The Bear

Tell that pokey beware, don't come near here

Don't dare, unless you wanna see my axe buddy partin' your hair

I'm a Southwest gang bang gangsta boy

Zug Island, Del Ray I aint's ta toy

My boy Nate's the boy, my whole crew busts shots

Until you out like quamay's pokadots

I'm tryin' to smoke a litte somethin' for my dogs who smoke

They only cessed and stressed cause they all too broke

I'm like "bew-bew-bew-bew-bew" with the Anybody Killa

Blowin' Indian tubleweed, we bitch booty feelas

Ghetto scrubs flippin' nubs at thugs

We drown faggots in Faygo tubs and eatin' dead bugs (Ew!)

I'm tryin' to say anything that rhymes

So I can fuck with your head like the cess do mine

[Hook x2: Blaze Ya Dead Homie]

Break it down and roll it up, smokin' blunts all night

Hesitate to hit it too hard, the weed's that tight

Sticky icky situations, dehydrated

Cottonmouth creepin', the game got me faded

[Verse 4: Esham]

I'm in the water with the sharks bleedin'

That's why I be a killa for no reason, speedin'

My flows dope like OZ's and

Crush pounds and trees and, I'm all season

Veteran, no one does it better than they (We)

E and J, (Hey) ABK

And that's my man and them (What's up?)

And I always blow ganj with them

Detroit playas too advanced for them

We buyin' out the bar, we don't dance with them

So if you ever get a chance to glance at them

Baby boy say holla back, answer him

H-U-S-T-L-E-R

Yes, that's what the hell we are

See, me and Blaze, wicked ways

Full body armor, 5000 rounds and about 2 K's

I can walk on water, spit fire and ice

Chinese secrets, makin' wine from rice

Still shoot dice, up against the wall so nice

Still F-U-C-K the po-lice

Think twice like the 3 blind mice

But don't give me no advice

I shine like crystals in the jewelry heist

And still pimp hoes like Heidi Floess

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

Comments