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I got put on the set, smokin Jimmy Jacks in a shack with my nigga Coolio, got me to' the fuck back High as a UFO, standin in my drawers in the hall, talkin to the walls Now a nigga's spooked, umm *Snagglepuss voice* Heavens to merkatroids, I'm looped! I'm tripping! *normal voice* Nigga what do I see? It's me, that nigga Dub C on the TV Now I know I'm buzzed cause I'm on the TV but the TV's unplugged Damn, this shit is like the Twilight Zone *sings theme* Na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na; I'm blowed! Cause now I'm havin illusions, illusions of me on channel eleven on a black and white tube and Mack and the Gene are one of mine show Hangin with Sinead and they sippin on the four-oh Now I know I'm trippin *Martin Lawrence voice* Oh my goodness! Let me change the TV and Dizamn! Once again there I go But this time it's channel thirteen on Arsenio I'm smokin a wet one on the couch Givin up a fat middle finger to the crowd I'm faded, but not in a way in which you ever seen peep the side effects, yeah, I'm on the set
Chorus: *singers*
Asshole naked standin in front of the set; I'm wet Ain't no escapin when yo' ass is wet; I'm wet
Look, look, way up in the sky everybody just look, look, and you'll find me flyin high So there I was, standin in front of the set mesmerized Kickin off the scenery right before me eyes High as a motherfucker what was I to do? Cause now the yerm has got me thinkin I'm on channel two Peep it -- bip-bip-bip like the bi-on-ic man I'm out of control and now I see myself on Highway Patrol Runnin from the Feds tryin to make my get away but there's *singin* nowhere to run, ba-bay And now exhausted from this drama I needed a rest So I went on channel four so I can catch my breath Now who's this after five minutes of bein there I met this motherfucker named the Fresh Prince of Bel Air Yeah this nigga was funny I must admit it but his Uncle and his cousin Carlton was straight bitches Them niggaz was cock blockin, talkin bout killin me cause I told em I wanted to fuck the shit out of Hillary, ooh Now what's a realer trip to fantasy, all I know is she was lookin good sportin them t-shirt and panties, huh I can't believe this shit, nigga I'm wet Fuck tricks, my mind is playin with dipsticks, I'm on the set
Chorus
Still blowed from the chemicals I'm askin was it worth it Cause like Slick Rick now Dub C is scared and I'm nervous Cause now the TV's changin by itself, uh-oh danger Cause now I see myself on channel nine on the Gladiators I'm swingin on a rope with a gauge Boom, bang bang, you niggaz can't hang Fuck a obstacle fool, I had them buff bitches runnin Mass confusion now I hear one-time comin So I swing to the exit, jumped off and jetted Thank God mama kept the baby gat ready I left all them bitches behind, til I got to channel fifty-two and there I found myself on Good Times Here was me and this nigga named J.J. Out on a double date, just sippin on Kool-Aid Now umm, ain't no need for me to pretenda like my date was all that like J.J.'s boo-boo Belinda yo, but she had a ass like Thelma, titties like Walona Drunk off the Mad Dog I fucked around and boned her Like J.J. the pussy was dy-no-mite though I must admit the hoe had a mug as ugly as Flo' I'm on tha set
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