Prime Minister

Prime Minister - Ho songtekst

Je score:

[Pete Nice]

Picasso the easel crusty crusty weasel

I shiggedy-shot, I shiggedy-shot the needle for the measels

If the record company's a pimp, you're a cheap slut

Pump the loot illzno, till you bust a big nut

Flex if you wanna, wanna flex

If you think you got the wrecks, yo

We be bustin necks, so

Daddy, Daddy Rich, Pete, Pete Nice the master

Father knows best, he knows best, you little bastard

Will he, will he plug ya and play ya like a fiddle

Or meddle just a little like the monkey in the middle?

It's time to fill the donut, but yo, I won't seduce ya

Word, I whip your ass from the Bronx to Tuscalusa

The big, big, big beat catcher need a big rat

Riggedy-rat bastard, can I get a soul clap?

A-clap, clap on, yo, a-clap, clap off one

Step to the rear if your material's the soft one

Yo, you got the drama class

Yo, you hit the drama fast

I vic your stash, your flag is wavin half-mast

Pete Nice, Daddy Rich, the agony defeat

(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)



(To the ladies screamin aw

The brothers yellin ho) [x8]



The riggy-riggin slippin, not Scottie Pippen

The drippin jheri curls like Steve Miller slippin

To the future, a moocher named Minnie vicked my ducats

Schmock as a schmock, I got your girl in a bucket

The primo, the celo, the 125th street

Beating up the herbs with the Nikes on my two feet

My head's up, I'm feds up, I'm fillin you with the diesel

If it ain't the legal, the scenario's illegal

So hey, Mr. Kincaid, when are we gonna get paid?

Punch you in the ass, sip the forties in the shade

You see, I'm real like the butts that ain't the silly-silicony

Homie don't play with the booty if it's bony

I push the rhymes like the fiendish Dick Dastardly

What's my fee? 10 g's cash, please

Hit the pawn shop with the rings, and you're hikin it

A tree grew in Brooklyn, and Dad Richie chopped it

If you got beef, get the grill and the charcoal

Hold it, now hit it now, cause yo, I know you got no (soul)



(To the ladies screamin aw

The brothers yellin ho) [x8]



Puffin, swigin, friggin-friggin A-1

Top of the heap, king of the hill, steppin it up to get some

Now what I know because I freak, I freak the flow

Hit you with the potent if you wanna, wanna throw

I'm Peety Weety Wheatstraw, the X watching Hee-Haw

I see-saw the open sesame is on a trap door

Peter Piper, picture pocket full of presidents

New York, New York, a hell of a town, yo, I'm a resident

If you wanna get me, I'm afraid you better shoot me

I'll do ya my way - bababui

Minister the Prime one, a butter like the parkay

Hey, hey, the Constipated Monkeys on a parlay

Switchin up the picture like the Doctor Gooden packin heat

Sweet Daddy Cream it ain't the _Krush Groove_ or _Beat Street_

Rock, rock the body rock, the truer to the hip-hop

Drop, drop a jewel, and never singin for the pop



(To the ladies screamin aw

The brothers yellin ho) [x8]
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Taal: Engels

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