Things I Do

I hear people always wanna know about Richter

What I do at home

How much I really smoke

If I really got as many bongs as I claim

If my bars about drinkin's just a game

Well listen up

Drinkin' vodka, blue label, Smirnoff on the rocks

Wish I had my sack but I left it at blocks

Babe's ribs got me trippin' shit I almost got lost

Walkin' up to my own crib comin' from the garage

But the night ain't over yet, I got places to go

Hit the bar to get faded but I needed some mo'

I told 'em make sure it's mean but when he brought my bag of green

It was the BC so I only got a phase, know what I mean?

If you don't that's new lingo, a phase is an eighth

I don't get more than an eighth if there ain't crip out on the plate

Not sayin' it's not crip doesn't mean that it ain't kind

It just means the herb you got ain't close to half as good as mine

That's right the truth hurts but not as bad as the dirt

Comin' up through your throat when you choke, and that's my word

Damn that shit burns I don't even like to think

About the cotton mouth you'd suffer if you didn't have a drink

'Cause these are the types of things I do

And these are the types of tales I tell

If people ask me if I smoke I say I do

And the smoke I exhale got that chronic smell

Wake up when I want 'cause that's the life I lead

Out every night, takin' trips every week

Hangin' out with my peeps, just livin' the life

Only smokin' out a glass while you hittin' metal pipes

International flights, passports gettin' filled

You know the show be tight if KMK's on the bill

Punk rock, hip-hop, bitch never seen me stop

When the crowd's gettin' tired it's their heads that bob

I got a job but I ain't callin' it work

Gettin' paid to smoke herb ain't work, it's absurd

Cottonmouth kings takin' over this millennium

Suburban Noize family, I know you will be feelin' 'em

Comin' out your stereo or seein' us on stage

Leavin' thousands of stunts, leavin' ladies in a daze

People shocked and amazed, the weak-hearted seem to faint

When they take one hit off of Johnny Richter's dank

'Cause I keep goin', continuously flowin'

Like the rappers on my condoms people say that I am golden

Never flowin' like my hydro when I weather's near and far

I'd rather have ten pounds of chronic than a fancy fuckin' car

X2

'Cause these are the types of things I do

And these are the types of tales I tell

If people ask me if I smoke I say I do

And the smoke I exhale got that chronic smell

Stumble in the front door, throw my jacket on the ground

Look left, look right, shit I looked all around

The house was all quiet, didn't hear a single sound

Grabbed a bottle of Bacardi and proceeded to pound

'Bout a quarter way through, 'bout 11:32

Headed to Del Taco 'cause I need to get some food

If not I'm gonna puke and I don't want that

Shouldn't have drank twenty beers, shouldn't have smoked ten bags

Couldn't relax, that is, my stomach of course

Shit was comin' up fast and it was chargin' with force

Jumped past my vocal cords quickly approachin' my teeth

Throwin' up every color, red, yellow, orange, green

There it was for me to see right in front of my eyes

A burrito, two tacos, and my chili cheese fries

Now there's a lesson to learn, if you listen right here

Beer lickin', never stick a lick of it you in the clear

'Cause these are the types of things I do

And these are the types of tales I tell

If people ask me if I smoke I say I do

And the smoke I exhale got that chronic smell

Don't worry about it

Johnny Richter, out-smokin' the fuckin' planet

All day long

Don't forget I was an underage alcoholic

Before you was hittin' the bong

Been smokin' for over a decade

Got ten years under my belt and I ain't even 24

Don't worry about it

De-De-De-De-De-De-De-Devastated to your ear

De-De-De-De-De-De-De-Devastated to your ear

De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-De-Devastated to your ear