St.lunatics
St.lunatics - Show 'em What They Won songtekst
Je score:
(Ali) Yeah, yeah, check, check See I ain't about playin, Leezy 'bout cash in advance Cash in on the casual, actual, factual plan Makin a killin man, went from that to makin a livin Rightous willin, the only thing supreme swimmin And proceed, to not smoke weed around the seed It's the new way, new life, peace true indeed, off T's I dwell on off how y'all plan makin mo' money, so I had to buy a fly chain Ran in this game, dirt broke, now it's MTV with Kurt Lod' With the Q-four-feezy, be hurtin folks Keep the bird toast, black handle, horoscope hood scandle You the type of niggas puffin in shirts, socks and sandals Keep the God in me, the Hova Ja knew Allah in me Ball wit' me, don't tell 'em who saw when 'bout to squall wit' me Fall wit' me, this pure mic dope I'm sellin It's the man with mellow rap, felon, constantly yellin "yo ma!" (Nelly) Uh, uh, uh, uh What's it like bein Nelly, ay, let me break it down It's like a shootout and you the only nigga wit' rounds It's like a weed drought and you the only nigga wit' pounds It's like a Freaknik and you got the only rubbers in town I'm like a shoe-in, for the poster boy, the thug of the year GQ style ma', let me put a bug in your err (ear) Go tell ya man, he take a step, there went a slug in his err (ear) Have 'em askin (yo, how the hell he get a gun up in here?) (That's gotta be illegal, Bob!) I can bring them chrome things for that drastic shit Metal detectors, no problem, got that plastic shit Witnessess, "I ain't seen 'em, they had masks and shit" "Whoever it was, was in a rush 'cause they was fast and quick" Oh, I'm just a playa, mo', these ain't my rules Peep game, I'm wearin Jordans, summer these my shoes I'm like the heir to the throne Me and my niggas fastbreak through your home, get ya coach on the phone Tell 'em "go'on" (Chorus) Show 'em what they won, a short stay at the hotel, Bob Show 'em what they won, Alize, Mo', Crissy or ale, Bob Show 'em what they won, Murphy Lee, Key or Nell, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won, niggas talkin shit get served, Bob Show 'em what they won, two to the head, left on the curb, Bob Show 'em what they won, leavin they mama's feelins hurt, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won (Kyjuan) Ay yo, Bob, they want Keyjuan, the one who gets the job done Keep huns screamin "Keyjuan-na-na" On the block I Rule like Ja, in the sun like Wa Me and mine at the mall spendin grands like Cool Bob See I'm a Ruger shooter, don't make me have to do ya Boo-ya, you see what Lunatics'll do to ya Tip-??? pursuer, get 'er in a room and do 'er First cat out the Lou that you knew that Wore a lime-green headband, matchin leather pants Vokal t-shirt with some sparklin wristbands This man, he keeps it real sweet With somethin sweeter than sweet, puffin on Swisher Sweets I'm unique like a blue cardinal bird without the beak I'm deep, like bucket seats when the 'tics hit the streets Pick door number three if your price is right I'll pull a DJ Quik "tonite is the night" (Murphy Lee) Hold on, so I can tell 'em who I is, a young school boy with one kid I think I'm five-eight, but yo, maybe I'm five-six With my boots off, I prefer my booties in boots off You get in my bed, you better take pants, shoes off Now, and not right now but right now! And I ain't backin down, she can get up and bounce The Young Dude, quick to roll up an ounce and head south Don't even have drive, I can sit on the couch And wrap somethin, and put on a beat and rap somethin They call me Mr. get all mad and smack somethin I'm wild dude, you could probably find me on side two If not I'm a holla like Ja Rule, get a dollar from my boo And go and by a juice or somethin A virgin rapper, I ain't gettin loose for nothin Money earnin rapper, I ain't got no boots for nothin So I'm servin rappers, I be cookin when I'm comin (Chorus) 2x