Where's the Weed At? - Kottonmouth Kings

Where’s the weed at?, yo, where’s the weed at?

It’s in my backpack, but you 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 holding, always knowing where the weed’s at

So where’s the weed at?, yo, where’s the weed at?

Somebody’s gotta know where the muthafuckin 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?

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

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