Must Be The Ganja - Eminem

Must be the Ganja

It’s the marihuana

Thats creeping upon me while I’m so high

Maybe it’s the hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever’s got into me I don’t mind

Yea, (oh, oh), yea yea, oh

I feel like dancing

I feel like dancing

I smell something in the air thats making me (high)

I said I smell something in the air thats making me high

Ok here we go, do-re-mi-fa-so, fa so la di fa so

Lyrical rise flow, give back the Tabasco

You mother fuckers musta not know the tic tac songs

Time to show you the mo kick ass flow in the cosmos

Picasso with a pick axe a sick asshole

she tac toe frozen six pack with exacto

knives, strangling wives with pig lasso

few bags of the the grass, zig zags, im with the doc so

You know how that go, skull and the crossbones

This is poison, the boys and girls who do not know

You do not want to try this at home my novato (novice)

This is neither the time or the place to get macho

So crack a six pack, sit back with some nachos

Maybe some popcorn, and watch the show and just rock slow

It’s not what you expected, tho what you thought though

Bout time to you wake the f*ck up smell the pot smoke

It must be the ganja

It’s the marijuana

Thats creeping upon me while I’m so high

Maybe it’s the hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever’s gotten into me I don’t mind

It must be the Ganja

It’s the marijuana

What’s creeping upon me while I’m so high

Maybe it’s the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever’s got into me I don’t mind

Your dreams of getting fulfilled, I am literally getting the chills

Spitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pill

You’re submitting to skill, sitting still, I’m admitting, I’m beginning to feel

Like I don’t think anyone’s real

Faced with a dilemma, I can be Dali Llama and become a bin gramma a step beyond

a Jeffrey Dahmer

Please don’t upset me mama, you lookin sexy mama

Don’t know if this the lala or the rum and pepsi mama

Don’t want to end up inside my refrigerator freezer

Be used as extra topping the next time I make a pizza

How many people you know can name every serial killer who ever existed in a row,

Put em in chronological order beginning with Jack the Ripper

Name the time and place from the body the bag the zipper

Location of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped

The trunk that they were stuffed in, the model the make the plate

And which motel which lake they found her in

And how they attacked the victim

Say which murder weapon was used to do what and which one

Which knife and which gun, which kid, what wife or which nun?

No stop I like this it’s fun, the fuckin night’s just begun

It must be the ganja

It’s the marijuana

That’s creeping upon me while I’m so high

Maybe it’s the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever’s gotten into me I don’t mind

It must be the Ganja

It’s the marijuana

What’s screeping upon me while I’m so high

Maybe it’s the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever’s got into me I don’t mind

When I’m behind a mic dynamite is what its kinda like

Get stuck with that same stick that you’re trying to light

Behind the boards is Dre, legends are made this way

Isn’t it safe to say, this is the way it should be?

Maybe you need some lyric syrup sign for your symptoms

Heres a dosage of the antidote now you give him some

He can give her some, she can give him some

Get behind a lynn drum, make up a beat and kill the sucka syndrome

You’re spitting drama when it comes to lyrics and penance I’m

Starting from scratch and then ending up at the end ending up

Capable of bringing a bullets a still unbelievable bullets a

Titanium brain that’s full of, surprises

When the smoke rises right before your very own eyes

You stare into your stereos high

Good evening, this ain’t even a weed thing,

I didn’t even smoke anything, I didn’t even drink anything

It must be the ganja

It’s the marijuana

That’s screeping upon me while I’m so high

Maybe it’s the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever’s gotten into me I don’t mind

It must be the Ganja

It’s the marijuana

That’s screeping upon me while I’m so high

Maybe it’s the Hindi that has gotten in me

Whatever’s got into me I don’t mind