[Intro: George Clinton]
This is that dope-on-dope
Smoke but don't choke on it's the shit
Plenty blunt junkies have been known to croak
From less than a toke of it's the bomb

[Hook: Sam Chris]
For those who think life is unfair
'Cause I blow my smoke in the air
As if no one is standin' there
Then I'll roll one tonight for your sorrows
In my chair
As I sit back smiling from ear to ear
With a fistful of your girlfriend's hair
Yes, she'll blow one tonight for your sorrows

[Verse 1: Big Boi]
Daddy Fat Sax back on the scene
Went and shot two or three movies
But everything's straight like 9:15
It's back to the time machine, I believe
Back to the rhyming, back to the spit
Back to the hi-hats, *tsst*, kick, snare
Y'all n***as dare to think that was it, we everywhere (Bitch!)
Like the air you breathe
Got 'em stuck like Chuck in the web we weave
Like a lace front wig stuck to the forehead
Best believe I'll change your steeze, take the lead
Change the speed, slow it down just for the sport
N***a, one of my favorite rappers happens to be Too $hort
[Verse 2: Too $hort]
Now everybody wanna sell dope (Sell dope)
Got a P, got a pound, got some hope (Nope)
Jesse Jackson had a lil' bit of hope
For the folks on the rope, back in 1984 ('84)
Bitch!

[Hook: Sam Chris]
For those who think life is unfair
'Cause I blow my smoke in the air
As if no one is standin' there
Then I'll roll one tonight for your sorrows

[Verse 3: Big Boi]
Just to let you know that everything is straight
I say, "Stank you very much," 'cause we appreciate the hate
Now, go get yourself a handgun—you fucking with a great
Put it to your mouth and squeeze it like your morning toothpaste—kill yourself
Like Sean Kingston, suicidal for a title
My recitals are vital and may be needed for survival
Like the Bible or any other good book that you read
Why are 75% of our youth reading magazines?
'Cause they used to fantasy, and it's what they do to dream
Call it "fiction addiction," 'cause the truth is a heavy thing
Remember when the levees screamed, made the folks evacuees?
Yeah, I'm still speakin' about it, 'cause New Orleans ain't clean
When we shoutin "Dirty South," I don't think that is what we mean
I mean, it mean the rough, the tough, the dangerous—we reign supreme
Can slaughter entire teams with the ink that my pen bleeds
B-I-G B-O-I, n***a, please
[Hook: Sam Chris]
For those who think life is unfair
'Cause I blow my smoke in the air
As if no one is standin' there
Then I'll roll one tonight for your sorrows
In my chair
As I sit back smiling from ear to ear
With a fistful of your girlfriend's hair
Yes, she'll blow one tonight for your sorrows

[Bridge: George Clinton; with Big Boi]
Don't want no girlfriend
Just need my dope (I just need my dope)
Won't front on the world when
I'm behind in my smoke (I'm behind in my smoke)
On the back burner, you could just simmer around
But on the front burner, you better burn—
A fat one
(Roll that up, fire that shit up)
A fat one (Fire it up)
A fat, fat, fat one

[Outro: George Clinton]
This is that dope-on-dope
Smoke but don't choke on it's the shit
Plenty of blunt junkies have been known to croak
On less than a toke of it's the bomb
Bombarding the brain a bong instant-replays
The place to come came and went
Time well spent, bent
Take another huff and puff and choke and toke and icky, stinky, sticky
Stuff a bowl and pack a pipe, twist a blunt, roll and light a joint
'Cause this is the dope-on-dope
Some good shit
Yeah
Lean back and puff slow