Styles P

Blow Your Mind (Remix)


[Intro: Swizz Beatz (Styles P)]
(Yo Swizz! This is the tree-mix!)
Yeah, smoke, now
S.P. c'mon (L.O.X.!) S.P. c'mon

Ghost - it's showtime, it's showtime! (Swizzie!)
Ghost - lighters in the air!

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz]
I wanna roll somethin up so
I-I can just blow, my mind (lighters in the air!)
I wanna, blow my mind (hey, hey, hey - lighters in the air!)
Blow my mind (hey, hey, lighters in the air!)
You should roll somethin up so
you can just um, blow, your mind (blow your mind!)
You should just blow your mind (hey, hey, lighters in the air!)
Blow your mind (hey, hey, lighters in the air!)

[Jadakiss]
AH-HAH! Yo, I already got it, they want power
Pump haze, blow sour, top floor of the Trump Towers
They style is nasty, that's why they want ours
Sign my name in the book, send y'all chumps flowers
Light it if it's exotic and blow it 'til it's gone
They find out who got it then cop a whole jawn
Say I didn't warn ya
Roll a couple up at the same time so the cypher can go around longer
In weed terms I'm a couple pounds stronger
All I need is one more connect, California
And I ain't gon' rush, I'ma take my time
Stay on my grind, and, just blow my mind

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Silverback! Uhh
Stacks of money, big Cohiba, call me Eddie Cheeba
Granddaddy blazin, Sheek Louch amazin
Coupe Caucasian, system Asian, seats Italian
And the medallion, I'll be fuckin stylin
Answer this - who you know better than 'Kiss?
Better than P, better than the Silver-B
Back gorilla, Apollo filler, guarded twice
Just that nice, look at the ice
Now look at the hammer
I want cheese like you in front of the damn camera, 'til I see the slammer
Black Chuckers, one bubble, the God is here
I hit the block, they put they LIGHTERS IN THE AIR!

[Chorus]

[Styles P]
I get (Red-man) to (B-Real), my (Method Man) is (Luniz)
I (Snoop) around, watch a channel live in the boonies
Forgot where the telly is, and I lost the room key
The green might ruin me
Need a few quarters, few waters and some trail mix
Peanut butter and jelly, I'm tryin to tell you real shit
Hit the studio, blow, go and lay some ill shit
Hit my boy Swizz like, we gon' make the ill mix
People wanna ask if The Lox broke up
That's like S.P. the Ghost bein not smoked up
And I'm back to the head
Cause I don't need the germs from the worms, don't pass cause I'm stackin the bread

[Chorus]

[Swizz Beatz]
You should roll somethin up so you can just um, blow, your mind