Ted Roe, J. Mack, Wright Bros. - Frogs ‘N' Logs lyrics
[Ted Roe, J. Mack, Wright Bros. - Frogs ‘N' Logs lyrics]
Roll up, Nigga! Who's matchin'?
Gut bucket xXL
You know we gotta roll 2 at least!
Maybe 3 or 4
BLUNTS!
Well, well, well
Sounds like it's time for cypher
Let’s go to Mel Kypher
Blunt rotors like motors on
Your windshield wipers
We got rello's, glass, some papers
Even got a vapor
Black Sticks, Black Ops, 2K12, grenade grater
Break ‘em all down, Nuggets ground into shake
13 Purple G’s, call it Throwback Lakers
Had 24, but for scratch I'm a scraper
And stay chopping trees like
A fuckin' landscaper
Mr rogers flavor, whiff
You’ll wanna be my neighbor
Scholar of The Wu and pump the 40th Chamber
Method to my madness, a crime rhyme strangler
Kind to snatch your brain out
Your ass with a hanger
Library of rhymes like I slang outta Sanger
Pass to my partner, Power Rangers to Bangers
I burn like a range, and with Mics
I'm a mangler
Made in Jeep City like a 4 Door Wrangler
Roe!
As I pack my bong with that sticky weed
I realize Mary Jane's the only bitch I need
Spark that lighter up nigga
Let's get blowed like Sheed
Comin' down off the dro
I got that need for speed
Well, I'm Chairman of the Swamp
Like Kermit the Frog
Never rollin' up pins, stay rollin' the logs
It don't matter, bet it's fatter
So don't sweat it like hogs produce flame
I'm glad you came cuz the rooms bout to smog
It might get coughy, then groggy
Slimy and slobbery ask "What's The Swamp?"
I tell yo' ass "Where my MOB be"
Bout as black as coffee, twice as strong
She told her man to his face
My dick's twice as long
Mr sexual Choc'late: watch me
Get in them thongs
And if he's mad, then it's on
Now he feelin' he's strong
He'll get snapped like a stem
Let him get at me wrong
Royal Flush all his paper
That's the shit I be on
Then swiss cheese on that ham
Like I'm Jimmy & John's
Stay rollin’ with the thunder like
A carpet of bombs
Still travel back in time for
My hit off the bong
I'm Randy Watson: droppin' Mics when
I finish my song
Roll it up, that Loud, I don't do the Miller
(No Reggie) back to Back
That shit we blowing is some killer
(Some Fire) i'm Godzilla off hard liquor and
A stick of Haze (That Purple)
My eyes low, I'm fucked up when a nigga blaze
(I'm Gone)
I was rappin' to this bad lil Texan
Said she liked my rhymes and the
Way that I be flexin' on to the next
She was down for the sex and I
Zoomed on the boom, like I'm Wrecks'n'FX and
Womb to the Tomb, I proclaim to be best and
Anything less is just the game and it's tests
If a clash is your quest then
You came for a mess
Cuz while you came with a vest
I don't aim for the chest
Bring pain to your neck and demand my respect
Cuz I ain't came in this game
For the fame and the stress ask around
I gets down and the lames I molest
And the 419 is the lane that rep!
Got cess? Let me test and feel
The flame in my chest
Not a flame like Madea, but a
Flame like the reefer
Got stains on my sneakers
Top Frog Under Glass
First you pull, then you puff, then you pass
And that's the grass
Roll that shit the fuck up!
No Hoovering no Hoovering no Hoovering
The Blunts, Blunts, Blunts, BLUNTS!
ROLL UP, NIGGA!
Gut bucket xXL
You know we gotta roll 2 at least!
Maybe 3 or 4
BLUNTS!
Well, well, well
Sounds like it's time for cypher
Let’s go to Mel Kypher
Blunt rotors like motors on
Your windshield wipers
We got rello's, glass, some papers
Even got a vapor
Black Sticks, Black Ops, 2K12, grenade grater
Break ‘em all down, Nuggets ground into shake
13 Purple G’s, call it Throwback Lakers
Had 24, but for scratch I'm a scraper
And stay chopping trees like
A fuckin' landscaper
Mr rogers flavor, whiff
You’ll wanna be my neighbor
Scholar of The Wu and pump the 40th Chamber
Method to my madness, a crime rhyme strangler
Kind to snatch your brain out
Your ass with a hanger
Library of rhymes like I slang outta Sanger
Pass to my partner, Power Rangers to Bangers
I burn like a range, and with Mics
I'm a mangler
Made in Jeep City like a 4 Door Wrangler
Roe!
As I pack my bong with that sticky weed
I realize Mary Jane's the only bitch I need
Spark that lighter up nigga
Let's get blowed like Sheed
Comin' down off the dro
I got that need for speed
Well, I'm Chairman of the Swamp
Like Kermit the Frog
Never rollin' up pins, stay rollin' the logs
It don't matter, bet it's fatter
So don't sweat it like hogs produce flame
I'm glad you came cuz the rooms bout to smog
It might get coughy, then groggy
Slimy and slobbery ask "What's The Swamp?"
I tell yo' ass "Where my MOB be"
Bout as black as coffee, twice as strong
She told her man to his face
My dick's twice as long
Mr sexual Choc'late: watch me
Get in them thongs
And if he's mad, then it's on
Now he feelin' he's strong
He'll get snapped like a stem
Let him get at me wrong
Royal Flush all his paper
That's the shit I be on
Then swiss cheese on that ham
Like I'm Jimmy & John's
Stay rollin’ with the thunder like
A carpet of bombs
Still travel back in time for
My hit off the bong
I'm Randy Watson: droppin' Mics when
I finish my song
Roll it up, that Loud, I don't do the Miller
(No Reggie) back to Back
That shit we blowing is some killer
(Some Fire) i'm Godzilla off hard liquor and
A stick of Haze (That Purple)
My eyes low, I'm fucked up when a nigga blaze
(I'm Gone)
I was rappin' to this bad lil Texan
Said she liked my rhymes and the
Way that I be flexin' on to the next
She was down for the sex and I
Zoomed on the boom, like I'm Wrecks'n'FX and
Womb to the Tomb, I proclaim to be best and
Anything less is just the game and it's tests
If a clash is your quest then
You came for a mess
Cuz while you came with a vest
I don't aim for the chest
Bring pain to your neck and demand my respect
Cuz I ain't came in this game
For the fame and the stress ask around
I gets down and the lames I molest
And the 419 is the lane that rep!
Got cess? Let me test and feel
The flame in my chest
Not a flame like Madea, but a
Flame like the reefer
Got stains on my sneakers
Top Frog Under Glass
First you pull, then you puff, then you pass
And that's the grass
Roll that shit the fuck up!
No Hoovering no Hoovering no Hoovering
The Blunts, Blunts, Blunts, BLUNTS!
ROLL UP, NIGGA!