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"Hot Box Anthem" lyrics by POTLUCK
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"Hot Box Anthem"
[feat. Absolute On End and Mr. Garth-Culti-Vader]

Potluck! Roll up the window
Dank alumni, back up in this bitch
Roll up the window

I'm fucked up, I'm too high, and I still want more
And it's fucked up, we got too much good weed to ignore
So we closing all doors and close all the windows too
Oh you ain't smoking, watch what secondhand will do
It's the hotbox anthem, it's not a joke, put your hands up
The room is filled with smoke, so many blunts you can't stand up
Humboldt bud shines in high times magazine
And where I'm from, were fillin bags of weed for Halloween
Get in the truck, hit the blunt, and get the visine
Roll the windows up, were puff n tuff till our eyes bleed
Five jays a day the only way to get by
This ain't fake this ain't the movies like half baked and how high
Walked into a party I ain't got no ice on
But I got the best weed you seen in your life dog
One hit and you might fall, I'm right in my life ya'll
And critics talkin shit like this is a gimmick, Fuck all ya'll!

[Chorus - One Ton:]
This ain't a club song shakin and dancing
This ain't a love song singing and romancing
This ain't a pop song about your favorite fashion
Were here to smoke a blunt, this is the hotbox anthem

[Garth Vader:]
Hop into my hotbox AKA my office, I got it
It's Mr. Garth-culti-vader growing these pounds of purple chronic
When I get up on it most people call me the green thumb doctor
Living in a tent with my twelve gauge watching for helicopters
I broke you off something kind of proper when I don't get weight
I'm watching out for crooked coppers in my golden state
I can't stop it Mary Jane is out on another day
I'll just wait till my harvest and I be rollin some grapes
Not the ones from Napa but believe they keep on coming after this rapper
Because they know I'm a fuckin disaster
When I bring the master kush straight off the plant stalks
Id like to welcome everybody to this hot box

[One Ton:]
Roll up the window smoking on a blunt, roll up the window turn the music up to bump

You ready to burn? Yep. Ok cool.
Let's blaze up every molecule
Well I got a few, will it make you feel like gravity's on top of you
Fuck yeah! I got it, hit it up in the spare tire, to get ya high
I'll get that lighter, I got some fire, do it quick now we expire
Showin em I was born to roll just like I was master ace
So whatcha talkin about suburbans on dubs
Nah I'm talkin ace straight to the face
It's dank alumni, we smoking brass and weed
It's almost like asthma to me when you have to breathe
Cause every time I go to inhale, man it's like backdraft
So pack that bowl again, homie, hit it, and pass that
I'm doin dope fo sho, smokin trees, getting slow
Everything turns to I don't know
I don't wanna quit so I still roll
Man I still blowin my dough
Let's go get high like was sup?
Only time I shut the fuck up
Is every time the windows go up
So if you hotbox, hit it hard till it hurts
So I can get to the other side like lesbians trying to convert

[Chorus - One Ton]

This is dank alumni, we manufacture aroma therapy
Multi-cultural taking out a teepee like a Cherokee
A belished desire to smoke
Clouds developing start taking shapes lookin like the holy ghost
Don't you break the tag cough or drop ash in the interior, the hot box
I swear the shortness of breath don't make you inferior, that's top notch
Marijuana songs that beats the bounce like girls at hop scotch
Rollin blunts the size of redwood trees, joints the size of sasquatch
Inhale steam let's your eyes sink
Whirling spells casted to reveal reflect the thoughts that I think
Positive progress towards liberation
Know all your local laws and litigation the process
Blaze your favorite band without the guilty conscious

[One Ton:]
I hang with Mary Jane
And roll with ounces of bang
More changes stay the same
I gotta hustlers game
You can catch me in my Chevy grindin, windows rollin up
Cause homie you got perfect time I'm finna roll a blunt
Still bumping gangsta rap
Still screaming fuck a cop look like my car is on fire
When I'm cruising down the block
It's Smokey in the inside the hot box anthem
My weed it kiss your brain like your smoking Charles Manson
The east they're smoking Phillies, the west we Rollin swishers
Some people packing bong hits, some people joint twisters
But me I smokes it all I got a PHD, that's a pothead degree, wrap pot, best believe
I'll smoke a couple of P's you're just a novice to me
When it comes to havin fire, I'm as hot as can be
I'm smoking like a chief, notice me, I'm holding cheese
Cause up in Humboldt county all our money grow on trees

[Thanks to Chris Gandini for these lyrics]
[Thanks to kody casselman, Scott Zackowski for correcting these lyrics]

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