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    rhythmic tonic for the chronic blues. . The critics called it a "joke song" but now. They've changed their tune, and they like it, somehow. . For it's inoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeter
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    ). Till the mother***er bounce and break,. And knock both of the screws out the licence plate. Let the games begin,. These other rap niggas so far behind me, go taste my rims,. ***, let the chronic burn
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    Intro. You should smokes with me Chorus. The chronic's blowing. The chronic's blowing. The chronic's blowing. The chronic's blowing (It blows my mind) Verse 1 - Snoop Dogg. Blowing chronic to
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    retirement. Hiding behind 8 Mile and The Chronic. Gets rich but dies rhyming. This is high science. Now add 23 more from Queens to B-more. I'm over their heads. Like a bulimic on a seesaw. Now that's 50
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    a cup, call the * Hypnotiq. I bleed Compton, spit crack and * Chronic. And you new niggaz ain't * but new niggaz. Bathing Ape shoe niggaz, I'm talking to you niggaz. Bounce in the 6-4
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    a cup, call the * Hypnotiq. I bleed Compton, spit crack and * Chronic. And you new niggaz ain't * but new niggaz. Bathing Ape shoe niggaz, I'm talking to you niggaz. Bounce in the 6-4
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    a cup, call the * Hypnotiq. I bleed Compton, spit crack and * Chronic. And you new niggaz ain't * but new niggaz. Bathing Ape shoe niggaz, I'm talking to you niggaz. Bounce in the 6-4
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    As my daytons spin lowrider sitting low. Hitting corners so hard you could taste my rims. Rag top 6-4 henny in the passenger side. Smoking chronic just letting me ride. You would do it if my name
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    Verse. First things first (aftermath), the chronic is back. This is indo produced by timbo. Game ova, naw the nwa chain choka. Is burnin rubber inside the range rova. Chain smokin, purple haze
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    ,. . Chorus. . Too much criss in the club not too get drunk,. Too many bitches in the world not too *,. Too much chronic in the studio not to roll it up,. And too much bass in the trunk so let it bump
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    rhythmic tonic for the chronic blues. . The critics called it a "joke song" but now. They've changed their tune, and they like it, somehow. . For it's inoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeter
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    up. And they nose and cough snot up, mucus in hot water. That's for tryin' to talk like the chronic was lost product. That's for even thinkin' of havin' them thoughts thought up. You better show some
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    for back up. I guess they planned to beat the mack up. He called me a silly ass thug. And pulled out his billy ass club Tearin' up my coupe lookin' for the chronic. Goddamn, nobody got a Panasonic
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    hate waitin'. I told Dre to put out Detox, or I'mma do it. This is that nigga, The Chronic mixed with embalming fluid. Bring your chin here blood, so I can put this lama to it. Disrespectful nigga, see
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    amazing the lyrical lingerie I be lacin *, we be blazin it. Put it in the air with the chronic. My lyrics like drugs got you hooked on my phonics. From brooklyn to compton the lounge of soundbombing
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    / Paints the chronic blow. Can you feel the fuel in the breeze?. *** the air and make the moment. Seize. !. Every glimpse of what you see. Collect every piece. Control the puzzle / 'cause the memory feeds
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    down the wall. part of me dies under my overalls. I close my eyes and a woman calls. from a nightmare. The chronic breath of the dead collides. with a rattle of the waste disposal slides. No flowers for
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    Hit me All the chronic in the world. Couldn't even mess with you. You are the ultimate high. You know what I'm saying, baby?. Now check this out Take my money. My house and my car's. For one
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