O.g.c. (originoo Gunn Clappaz)

O.g.c. (originoo Gunn Clappaz) - Slo Mo songtekst

Je score:

[Louieville Sluggah]

God damn, look at missy missy

She actin hot and sigie, I'm gonna catch them titties

Oh come kitty kitty, I'm in the store with Bell

I asked her if she miss me

I need change quickly, Papi can you split this fifty

She started small talk, like "Where you been"

I cut her short, it's where I'll be with you and your friends

You see girl, I ain't you average man, runnin a million

On an island, puffin spliffs with Gilligan

Set on the hot rocks, sendin my tube socks

I'm wonderin, is this what it's like, if the clock stop

And at a slow speed, cool breeze, blue trees

Higher counts we had, BBQ on nude beach

Your word becomes a V, you crack a smile now

Then find out later, bitch, it ain't shit funny

Me all about me sunny, money and keep it cunnin

Movin wit my niggas and best to Playboy bunnies



[Starang Wondah]

Aiyo, ya see me the bed, countin ends

Yo, I know you have a man, can't you have friends

Wanna look me up and down, sayin "It depends"

Aiyo, I treat you like a queen, til I hit the skins

Cuz I look good, like your man wish he could

Push a phat ride, parkin right in front of the hood

Big muthafuckin Will, from the M.F.C.

I roll a Bob Marley up, and pass the hennecy

Nigga cough, never smoked before, yo weed it up

Got chills goin down ya spine, I heat it up

Gotta get where I'm goin, and fast

Speed it up, I feel a hotel elevator beam me up

I take you home, lie you down, so you can dream me up

Get your all your friends through and double team me up

I can't call it, smoker, never alcoholic

Hittin it doggystyle, while you leanin on the toilet

O.G.C. put it down like this

From the foot to the gas while the spark burn up



[Louieville Sluggah]

Niggas be charged, spit like cards, it's just too easy

Bouncin where you hearin my shit, niggas you feel me

All up on your TV, blastin in your CD

Hits like damn, the world love them niggas G.C.

Let's get together, if Da Storm, change the weather

Don't wanna make it hot, you can send me 4 page letters

I won't tell a soul, stay strapped like Velcro

Ya nana yellin, that's one hell of a fellow

Pumpin ya driveway, playin somethin mellow

Your pops hear me, call and say, girl hell no

See I can understand, that's what the average do

So later on, out the window to the Avenue
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Taal: Engels

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