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Must Be The Ganja

Eminem

Relapse 2009
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Lyrics

Yeah, (oh, oh), yeah yeah, oh I feel like dancing, I feel like dancing I smell something in the air that's making me high I said I smell something in the air that's making me high (OK here we go) do-re-me-fa-so-fa-so-la-ti-da-so Lyrical rascal, kick back the Tabasco You motherfuckers must just not know the tick-tock, so Time to show you the most kick-ass flow in the cosmos Picasso with a pick axe, a sick asshole Tic-tac-toe comes with six-pack with Exacto Knives, strangling wives with thick lasso Big bags of the grass, Zig-Zags, I'm with the Doc, so You know how that go, skull and the crossbones This is poison to boys and girls who do not know You do not want to try this at home, my lil' vato This is neither the time nor 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, not what you thought, so 'Bout time that you wake the fuck up, smell the pot smoke It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana That's creeping up on me, why I'm so high Maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me Whatever's got into me, I don't mind I said it's the ganja, it's the marijuana That's creeping up on me, why I'm so high Maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me Whatever's got into me, I don't mind Your dreams are getting fulfilled, ooh I'm literally getting a chill 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 Dalai Lama And be calm or bring drama, a step beyond of Jeffrey Dahmer Please don't upset me, mama, you're looking sexy, mama Don't know if it's the lala or the rum and Pepsi, mama Don't wanna end up inside my refrigerator freezer Be used as extra topping the next time I make a pizza How many people you know Who 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 model, which lake they found her in How they attacked the victim Say which murder weapon was used to do what in which one Which knife and which gun, what kid, what wife, and which nun Don't stop, I like this, it's fun, the fucking night's just begun It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana That's creeping up on me, why I'm so high Maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me Whatever's got into me, I don't mind I said it's the ganja, it's the marijuana That's creeping up on me, why I'm so high Maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me Whatever's got into me, I don't mind When I'm behind the mic, dynamite's what it's kinda like You're stuck with the same stick that you're tryna light Behind the board sits 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 serum for your symptoms Here's a dosage of the antidote now you give him some He can give her some, she can give them some, get behind a Linn Drum Make up a beat and cure the sucker syndrome The spinnin' drum when it comes to lyrics and pennin' some Starting from scratch and then ending up at the endin' of Capable of winning a Pulitzer so unbelievable it's a Titanium cranium that's full of sur- Prises when the smoke rises right before your very own eyes You stare into your stereos high Good evening, this isn't even a weed thing I ain't even smoke anything I ain't even drinking It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana That's creeping up on me, why I'm so high Maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me Whatever's got into me, I don't mind I said it's the ganja, it's the marijuana That's creeping up on me, why I'm so high Maybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me Whatever's got into me, I don't mind