Don't Give Me No Bammer

RBL Posse

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    [chorus: black c]
    Don't gimme no bammer weed
    (get with the program)
    (just smoke that dank)
    We don't smoke that shit in the sfc [x4]

    [verse 1: mr. cee]
    3, 2, 1, comin in with a bang
    It's 2 dark-skinned niggas, not a muthafuckin gang
    Pimps with limps, never known as simps
    We smoke dank, not the bammer shit
    Damn, that bammer ain't no good
    You might as well smoke some rolled up wood
    And you laughed and said those rhymes was funny
    But trip on the sense that i'm stressin, you punk-ass dummy
    Get with the program
    Can't you see bammer ain't nothin but a scammer
    False high, nothin but a untrue affair
    Or a everyday lie to dank ???
    Ain't it a gram that you seek to gain?
    Once knew a girl named brenda
    Smokin that bammer was her everyday agenda
    She used to laugh and giggle
    Until mr. cee moved next to her building
    I tried to get her but she acted kinda shob
    So i shared my dank, i got her real high
    She followed me up to a room
    And for you bitches, honey boomb, honey boom
    We smoked mo' dank without a pause
    And later that night i was in them drawers
    See, frisco niggas ain't no punks
    Put guns in our way and they're gonna get pumped
    Oh, brenda's now hoein in the point
    Couldn't handle the dank, the reason - bammer joints

    [chorus]

    [verse 2: black c]
    Don't gimme no bammer joint
    It's the black c, nigga, gettin straight to the point
    I was chillin outside on a hot day
    It was me and my niggas, just check what i say
    Let's fade, let's go see the dank man
    They'll fade if they is my friends
    A few niggas pitched in
    (let's go to the store so i can get some gin)
    Oh no, straight hen-dog on mine
    With a little dab of coke and a nigga doin fine
    So now we got a nitro
    We up, yeah, let's go hit the indo
    In fo' deep we creep
    It's about to be a party in a 5.0 jeep
    Nigga straight checkin the mirror
    One nigga in the back had a st. ides beer
    Urlin like fuck in my backseat
    I made him buy five grams and clean up the mess, gee
    Straight hen-dog with no chaser
    Fuck that beer, ain't nothin greater
    A-b, our name: c
    And you gotta pause when you get to the d
    D for dank, d for drink
    But not d for the dope that's stackin my bank
    There's only two things that i smoke
    A punk-ass nigga or a pipe full of indo
    I like nothin but the real mccoy
    Straight dank, fuck a bammer joint

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    [chorus]

    [verse 3: black c]
    Is it gold, is it green, is it brown?
    (no, it's black c breakin em buds down)
    Or should i say them indo clusters
    Never want homegrown cause i'm a indo lover
    Trip on the shit that i say
    Or go take a trip to go get the shit
    D to the a to the a to the n to the k
    (niggas know what's up) so what more can i say?
    If it's in a zag or a pipe
    It's quite expensive, so you better smoke it right
    Get a few niggas to fade
    Find a cut, a chizurp in a shade
    And like meat belongs to a meal
    Grab a 40 with the dank cause it's time to get ill
    It's better than crack cocaine
    It ain't medicine, but it'll ease the pain
    And if you find right you're in luck
    That and the ides got you amped as fuck
    Now for the journey or quest
    And creepin for some sex but don't forget the latex
    Niggas like each other lesser and lesser
    But on the dank tip let's come together
    You call it herb, some call it sess
    But if it's called bammer don't smoke that mess

    [chorus]

    [verse 4: mr. cee]
    Once again it's the muthafuckin mr. cee
    From harbor road, gee
    Just gimme a couple of zigzags
    So i can roll a fat one and take a drag
    Now i ain't got no time for playin
    I just wanna smoke my dank, and
    Niggas always say don't smoke that bammer
    What's that word by mc hammer?
    Shit, it ain't 'proper'
    The nigga who sold it to ya gotcha
    Straight up gaffled
    Now you're lookin confused, or should i say baffled
    But don't let it kill ya
    Cause a hunters point nigga will ???? it to ya
    The smoke gets straight to the head
    And next you're put head to bed
    Then you start to dreamin, wonderin
    You say to yourself (damn, that dank was bumpin)
    Ooh, ah, look at that hoe
    But don't open that door, you got to cop that blow
    Nigga say that while rollin in a ride at the same time
    Listen to the bassline
    By t.c.
    And my nigga named black c
    Poem like d-o-p-e
    Sayin fresh rhymes for the rbl posse
    Boy, i said it backwards, can i come smoother?
    That't that dank shit
    Time to pull another lick
    Rbl to the ninjas:
    Our mission: to go and jack niggas
    For their indo sacks, to be exact
    We 2 are like straight macks
    See, we got straight to the point
    Cause we don't smoke no bammer joints

    [chorus]

    Song details

    Composition: Chris Matthews

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