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bizzy bone – sticky icky lyrics

i got that sticky-icky… (3 x’s)
i got that sticky-icky…blue bonic shizzle for yo grizzle nizzle…
fa’shizzle. n-gg- fo’sheezaayy!

[hook]
[i got that sticky-icky…blue bonic chronic for yo shizzle nizzle…
in yo’ grizzle. n-gg- fo’sheezaayy…
i got that sticky-icky…blue bonic chronic for yo grizzle nizzle…
fa’shizzle. n-gg- fo’sheezaayy!

verse 1:
ooh wee! n-gg- got that good sticky weed! get it in a swisher,
p-ss it to my n-gg-. mothaf-cka better pick up a gun, you better prepare
got my eyes closed, let the smoke go everywhere
45 on the freeway, n-gg- gimme le-way
higher then a kite while i’m rollin through the alley
p-ss me a black and white, but that’s my boy cause me and his kids is tight
and the weed is lime-green, betta catch it from a chronic seed
and it was callin me…oh yeah. i can’t wait ’til this sh-t’s in the air
smoke everywhere…
i hail…a little bitty n-gg- that was sellin the rocks on the clair
and the devil is here…and he wants your soul. to rot with his in h-ll, h-ll…
then again they could put a n-gg- in jail…when i’m just tryna get by
but i use to sell…and now i leave it alone ’cause i’m doin well, well..
i never sold out!
i can do what i wanna. my baby momma want money. i never hold out!
hey, b-tch hold up. and try to leave me all thawed-ed out
man, i’ma be f-cked up. no doubt! i’m blowin up…

[hook]

verse 2:
rap and the crack, and the dice, like when i get on bracklin’
and it’ll be the dope man. and that n-gg- sold crack
and crack man…humiliation to the black man, black man…
my momma smoke weed, my daddy smoke weed
h-ll, we all smoke weed…
so i’m havin my fun, so give me what me need, baaby
i like ta got up in “high times”, i even gotta dail for my n-gg- “0-9-9”
dail for the chron, n-gg-, don’t let the cops come
’cause i’ll be runnin wit mine, like we got rock
feelin fine, and my heart’s already runnin
i get the drama and it’s steady comin, a c’mon…
(inhales) “what you wanna do?” “it’s on you, wayy…all day everyday” hey…
f-ck! gotta do sh-t. got thangs to do
a n-gg- really got kids and bills, wit the crew
i’ma pay them n-gg-, you already knew-baby baller i call all my trues
“how does it relate to weed?” “f-ck the weed! relate to me. the real n-gg- with the t.h.c.
and no g.h.b…these are the last days. roll me a sweet! a-c’mon! a-c’mon!

[hook]

i’m blowin up… (8 x’s)
(chronic, chronic, chronic…)

verse 3:
i’m ready for the war…still got time to let the weed cure
watch for the women with std sores, blessed in the rythm i got to get soar
and full of adrenaline…in your…mellinium…full of my drink
i’ll be in the back wit t-tenium…”d-mn, that’s the sh-t i’m smokin'”
weed got a mothaf-cka thinkinn…yeah. up, jumped in the cab and rushed, but b cant catch the bus. i’m goin to see my broad. and f-ck y’all n-gg-z, i’m in love. ain’t n-body finna stop me, dawg…
“what’s with the dreads? you might be wanting to mind ya bidness there, yellow man.”
man f-ck you n-gg-! young n-gg- to the hood, dawg. i got the weed and i’ma break the bread, yeah…uh…
on the freeway coasting like we was riding a limo. f-ck that.
windows was tinted. it’s me and it’s like sizzler-crush gr-ss.
’til it finished, we puffed puffed and p-ss (give it back!)
and im still on point, i got my mind on the hour gl-ss
“ey, why the f-ck you not driving fast? hurry up, i got -ss-to-mash.
and i’m there.

[hook]

- bizzy bone lyrics

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