Smokin' up an L Might kill a brain cell But I might as well I'm on a highway to hell Sometimes I feel doomed, Totally consumed By an eerie 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 Ya 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 GOTTI I'll leave with your 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