Witchdoctor (Erin Johnson)

Witchdoctor (Erin Johnson) - The Ancient Sahore lyrics

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No matter how advanced medical technology becomes
 many people still believe in the ancient healing arts
 *fades out*

 Verse 1:
 I had a dream I came up on a key
 Busted it down, nic'ed it all up and brought back forty G'z
 We put a big trap on the map
 Talkin' in code in case "twelve" got the phones tapped
 We got down wit niggas wit all types of skills
 From gun runnin', cookin' dope, stolen wheels
 That cheese was comin' in wit a grin
 We all up in the club, straight to spend
 And 'bout a hundred sippin' Mo'
 Didn't know that cooked swine tasted that same but just cost more dollars
 Let my nigga's ride my Impala
 Let's see if these hoes gone choose me
 Without thinkin about dollars
 Had a dream them keys cost a half a mil.
 Moved away, found a bitch and a crib
 Now I feel like God, talkin like a man whose face had the scar
 Ugh, We all know who you are
 If I only had twelve dollars i'd still feel like a star
 I tried to stay up in my bankin', listen close to this dream
 Dont run off and smoke no dank-in
 I dont use cocaine but in this dream I was totin'
 Got ta' scrappin' at the club and went ta' shootin'
 Blood runnin down my nose, caught that nigga who swung on me
 Pointed my gun and he froze, He said: (it wasnt me, it wasnt me!!!)
 Ugh, It was you, pulled the trigger he was through

 (chorus)
 Sahore, Sahore Sahore, Feel the doctor cure-ure-ure
 (Feel the doctor cure)
 Sahore, Sahore, Sahore, Fell the doctor cure-ure-ure-ure-ure-ure-ure

 Verse 2:
 Months later got rid of that bitch
 But she wasn't no crook, got rid of her cause she couldn't fuckin cook
 I'm from the south so you know I cuss a hoe out
 I had to tell another hoe to straight roll out
 My outlook on female burned that summer
 Thought every bitch was a hoe but my momma
 The dope game got strange within seconds
 And as the third day, done ran off wit my other package
 I gotta do him when I see him,
 Aint gone ask no questions, just gone draw out and bust it
 And wit this sixteen shot Baretta
 Wit my initials E.J. ingraved in big ol' muthafuckin letters
 Learn, you can have money and not be at peace wit yo' self
 Now-a-dayz you gotta watch every muthafuckin' step
 Every move is costly, see in this drug game any muthafucka out here can croos
 me
 I told myself I gotta retire wit this eighty G stash
 But I had a lust for makin' cash
 A lil bit more then what I need, I think they call that shit greed, as I
 proceed
 I'm southern po' nigga, but in this dream I was a fiend for cash
 Fancy clothes had my ass
 Was my own clan gittin' shady? Buckets, Team , Buffy, do they wanna stuff me?
 Livin' wit a gun, never livin' at ease, almost everybody 'round that street
 sleez
 You lucky if u make it out alive
 Ask that nigga that been robbed before and didn't die
 And that dream about them key, the police one day gone hollar freeze

 (chorus)

 Straight from the southwest S.W.A.T.s
 Y'all niggas dont know what's in these, yeah
 Collage, Collage Park, E-Pat
 Like dis here, yeah (ahhh)
 We gone do dis here like dis here wit it, yeah
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Interscope Records

Details:

Released in: 1998

Language: English

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