KOTTONMOUTH KINGS - WHERE'S THE WEED AT? Lyrics

You know the King Klick yeah we got the bomb weed
We got the Southern Cali shit that makes your eyes bleed
Daddy X, D-Loc and that boy Johnny Richter
B-Dub, Big Pak, Lou, Munch the heavy hitter

(CHORUS)
Where’s the weed at, yo where’s the weed at?
It’s in my backpack but ya can’t touch that
Where’s the weed at, yo where’s the weed at?
I need to take a rip quick tell me where the weed’s at
Where’s the weed at, yo where’s the weed at?
You know I’m holdin’ always knowin’ where the weed’s at
So where’s the weed at, yo where’s the weed at?
Somebody gotta know where the mutha fuckin’ weed’s at

It’s harvest time I’m in my prime blowing hella smoke
I got the mountain side growing going out for broke
We got them hillsides saturated Koast II Koast
I got a sack in my sock and an ounce in my coat
I got a fat blunt in the case of my guitar
I got the flavor of the month chilling in a jar
I got that white house garden presidential suite
I got that NASA spaceship THC
I got some weed in my garage, under my bathroom sink
It’s in my icebox, living room by my TV
I got a nug on my desk, and in my dresser drawer
And when I’m rolling low my hidden stash is in the floor
Further more I got some back-up underneath the stairs
On a airplane flight I’m stashed down in my underwear
Wrapped in my sweaty balls, that’s why I’m flying high
You wanna take a lick trick, taste the good life?

[CHORUS]

Want to know where the weed’s at? Well I’ll give you a hint
Just follow the scent rising out of my tint
Or flowing out of the vents in a Linc’ Continent’
Or my drop Cadillac ‘cause I done did it again
I packed a blunt in the wind I’m leaving holding my lid
I only need five pounds but fucking call and get ten
Getting control of those ends, blowing smoke like the wind
I’m back to rolling in my bus, don’t even let me begin
‘Cause when I’m in it I’m in but when I’m out it I’m out
These cats I knew from back when still got it popping no doubt
I call a fifty a fin and the lair is my house
My number one rule there’s don’t show up unannounced
Ya gotta call before you roll through, get the all cool
I might be like, wait up yo I’ll call you
‘Cause no one knows what Johnny Richter’s got crackin’
But when it’s crackin’ you can tell ‘cause I pick up like “what’s crackin?’
And you ask

[CHORUS]

I got the bomb weeds you know I’m blowing hella tokes
I got the good shit that leave you laid up on the floor
I got them krypt nugs I got them big sacks
I got the type a bud that kicks you in your fucking ass
I got the type a weed that make you want to bug out
Without a doubt the type o shit that get you drugged out
We getting supa high
We getting supa ripped
We putting it down for all the weed smoking cliques
So where’s the weed at I need to roll a blunt
Pull that shit back, fill it up, don’t front, lick it up, stick it, burn it
Smoke it to the butt, finish that shit then roll another one up so

[CHORUS]