Goodie Mob

Goodie Mob - Goodie Bag songtekst

Je score:

Cause in da SWAT's red hots don't drip or bleed

 Cuz'  you know me  givin' me left hand dap
 P funk be ridin' shot gun escort your window broke out son
 A cool breeze got my lips chap  mornin' slap some
 Soul in my bread basket gap contain "X" marks the spot
 twain  O.C. the cut layin'
 a stew of empty gas in my tank
 A buck thirty lookin' ugly   think  but it ain't gonna stop no show
 Ol' burd puttin a buzz in you ear
 "It's gonna snow" or maybe perhaps sleet
 Rap up the beat outside barely made it to your wake
 Lookin' like Mr. Fisher, dickie down no suit, no tie
 Niggaz ain't gonna be able to just get by no mo'
 You leavin' the hotel - 254

 Today was good to me
 I went to the Goodwill with the ten dollar bill
 Got that London Fog out tha back paid tha man
 Me and Khujo and T-Boo, three jack lumbers on tha loose
 Cut your ass Lo like Cee, be under tha water
 Half these figures around me be hollering Newt
 Now what the fuck has this politician did for you
 Complain, complain but Mr. Clampett ain't gon' change
 Just ribb your ass up just to gut your pockets out
 I heard Bill put two G's up for some folks
 That they found in they house beat up
 And I don't discuss that color scheme that they fall on
 Cuz tha scheme that they fall on don't match wit my tone
 See, I wonder will I walk tha streets in 1995
 And not have to make bond from 254
 Uh, will somebody please turn the lights on 166
 I can't see where tha fuck I'm going, I can't do shit but get mad
 I can't keep get Billie and his uncle out my fuckin' Goodie Bag...

 Without your shank you can't thank
 Without your niggas you up the creek
 Stank with a ass fool of ore takin' what I say for what it's worth
 It don't matter cuz how I feel might be triggered
 From thoughts I had in the past
 Now I struggle to reach the sky why try so hard
 If all I'ma get is spit on
 Cause life at the bottom ain't hittin on shit
 But some of these folks is gettin rich
 I know about mines, unwind, can't take at times going through
 The same drama that got me here in this state of mind...
 Red-hot in the summer time

 First of all, I stand a little more than five feet tall
 But we can still brawl nigga, I ain't scared at all
 I guess you niggas don't know or can't see
 That it ain't even wise steppin' to me incorrectly
 But yet still when nigga's feel they can deal
 I will split yo' ass up for real
 Cause we the maniacs with the chunky Goodie sac's
 So I don't carry an ax, but I still swing low with the lumber jax trax
 Are being made by Organo-i-z-e
 Why we coolin' in the shade ain't gettin paid
 For chillin, illin' willin' to do what I got to do
 To come thru your speaker
 Cee-Lo, he will never come weaker
 Uniquer than a lot of emcees out today
 Because I'm more than careful about what I say
 When I pick up a microphone it's on
 Them better leave me alone, I'm in my zone
 Prone to snap if you offer me a chance
 Like it when them chunky hoes can dance
 I'll enhance the microphone when it's in my grip, I do not slip
 I can't forget my nigga's Jo, T-Mo, and Gipp
 Ha, ha, ha, well Great Scott, is he a thief?
 It seems like he has a mouth fulla gold teeth
 I smile because your eyes can't take the glare
 But Cee-Lo, him don't care, I cut off all my hair
 And everybody stop and stare when we come in the place
 And I can get on the mic wit no time to waste
 Get right up in yo' face, kick the flavor you taste
 And when I'm on the microphone it's a damn disgrace
 How you don't comprehend what I'm saying to you
 And I'm the C, the double E from the Goodie Mo Crew
 I'm coming thru, I'm comin' true, ooh I can't even stop
 It's Cee-Lo B, I'm down wit that nigga pop, pop, pop and my nigga Mike L
 And Bert P and my nigga Pretty Ken, you know he down wit me
 We from Atlanta, G-A, that is where we stay
 I'm diggin all in the Goodie Bag each 'n ever day
 Ooooh shit
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Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: RCA Records

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1995

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Soul Food (1995)

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