Smokin' up an L
 Might kill a brain cell
 But I might as well
 I'm on a highway to hell
 Totally consumed
 By an earie feelin'
 I hear pigs squealin'
 Soldiers of fortune
 Are torchin' huts
 The girls on them TVs
 Are shakin' their butts
 I'm hyperventilatin'
 I might be hallucinatin'
 Yo I got a chill
 I'm feelin' sort of ill
 I'm goin' mad
 But aren't ya glad
 I used Dial
 I'm goin out like style

 chorus

 Uh and ya don't quit
 Yeah, keep it comin'
 And ya don't stop
 They say
 Uh and ya don't quit

 I got complexes
 Ya can't figure out
 My dad said
 "He's a bum, kick the nigger out"
 My head's fucked up
 But I lucked up
 And got a hit record
 Now I'm well respected
 I can go places I never went before
 I still dress the same
 So it must be my name
 I can't deal
 With who's real and who's not
 Who treated me the same
 When my record wasn't hot
 They said I couldn't eat too

 So I put my cake down
 I think I'm having a breakdown

 chorus

 It's not paranoia
 I got something for ya
 It's made of chrome
 And it'll burst you dome
 No joke my gun'll
 Blow a fuckin' tunnel
 Right through your body
 FREE JOHN GOTTY
 I'll leave with you hotty
 And I'll take her home
 Lay her down on her back
 And I'll make her moan

 chorus

 Uh and ya don't quit
 Yeah, keep me cummin'
 And ya don't stop
 Soul Assasins and ya don't stop
 FunkDoobie and ya don't stop
 Cypress Hill and ya don't stop
 House of Pain and ya don't stop
 Soul Assasins and ya don't stop