E-40 & Too $hort
Say I
[Chorus: Stressmatic]
All in favor of getting ripped and gone
And you're gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I
All in favor of getting super high
And you might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I

[Verse 1: E-40]
Plug me in and watch me go, bad on a ho ass n***a
Don't give me no more, I'm on my second fifth of liquor
Once I'm powered up it's hard for me to power down
I fuck a n***a up, and put tears on 'em like a clown
I went from rags to riches, riches to rags
Top convertibles, Benzs and Jags
Smoking me herbal, sipping me wine
Or should I say turf 'cause it's green and it's lime
Ever since he was an infant he was raised around pimpin'
When he took his first step, he walked with a limp and...
Manish n***a, hardheaded, damn fool
His teacher sucked his dick in high school
Supercalifragilisticexpialihooligan
Breaking down the diesel, mixing cookies with the headband
Went to jail on a Friday, didn't get out until Tuesday
Got a DUI for drinking too much Louis, biatch!
[Chorus: Stressmatic]
All in favor of getting ripped and gone
And you're gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I
All in favor of getting super high
And you might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I

[Verse 2: Too $hort]
I... got a DUI. Why? I didn't even have to drive
Now, I'm in jail for a crime, made bail and I paid the fine
My lawyer charged me high ass prices
DMV 'bout to take my license
Insurance is going up
And when I go to court I know I'm fucked
All this shit just for drinking
Need a designated driver, I'm too drunk for thinking
Two hands on the steering wheel
Don't let a friend drink and drive if you're being real
Might crash the whip, might lose your life
If I get too high tonight
Just make sure I make it home safe and you do the same
Now let's get fucked up and lose it, mayne (biatch!)

[Chorus: Stressmatic]
All in favor of getting ripped and gone
And you're gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I
All in favor of getting super high
And you might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I
[Verse 3: Wiz Khalifa]
Roll the paper so loud I wake up the neighbors
The boss, I don't need no favors
You pussy, so fuck a hater, bitch
Now that my cake up, my crib got an elevator
My new shoes is alligator
And every meal got a waiter with it
I'm all about pouring drank up
While I'm rolling the stank up
Sweat my wife out her make up
Blow a pound when I wake up
See the cars, they don't wanna race us
I do it big, n***as do it A-cup
Walk up in the club they gon' bring some champagne
I'mma blow a lot of drugs, I put money on it
Spending all this bank, let a fuck n***a hate
Real n***as show love, sound funny, don't it?
All this money, think I lucked up
All this gin got me fucked up
Man, I live life the Taylor way
Drinking Bombay and lemonade, rolling up some paper planes

[Chorus: Stressmatic]
All in favor of getting ripped and gone
And you're gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I
All in favor of getting super high
And you might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say I, I, I, I, I, I, I