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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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