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Goodie Mob - Gutta Butta lyrics
Yo we gon do it like this Straight out the parts. . . that they disregard Never considered . . . ok Now don't get mad nigga get glad Goodie got them brand new trash bags . . dag And they know where to dump that ass In the chair The hoochie river with the rest of the kids That did business outside la familians Gettin ya touched Down the cut Blunts roastin whole through tea bags Blowin bubbles out the wrong end Mud in your stool piles Flamin hotter than Dust Valley The gateway to where ever your sick tickle desire The gangsters of this other century Transforming hustlers and players into sissies So slim goodie You don't want no drug boy He'll leave you barefooted and pregnant Don't get too comfortable You ain't gon be here too long G's get locked up and die (clean) Most lie in they own surreal home Trust the tree on the map This one individual thought he was the Grim Reaper Swole, couldn't nobody put a finger on his naps Now he up under the bridge stankin In his birthday suit Used to always holler about how he was gon do a brother (get him!) Beat him to the punch-line, one ? Being forced into early retirement at the age of 26 Palms feel like bricks - peeling from distributing crack Crumb snatchers and goo-gobblers struggle To stay on top of sand dunes Cause mouths born with silver spoons Make your bed you gotta sleep in it But stakes made Baking soda kept the knees clean Narrow like a ravine ? fell good news Last hole, green jacket worn, body in two Left by oh-no Soul been gone, disappeared like the dune Once the temperature rise But I'm with my Lawd (lord) ?Please grits, still ship Half the pipes are gettin sold out convienience stores Where ya at now? Comming around trying to sniff out sounds Well rounded kept you strictly grounded for your ear The dogs are gettin closer to the ? now can you hear? I smell fear and even if your eyes was closed Your ass couldn't catch your tear Lies, straws, mirrors and plates Nicks, dimes, fifties, and cakes Why can't I escape These lies, straw, mirrors and plates? In the land of jacks I got my acts over the tracks with stacks Upon the map in the vault Where this cat's trying to sniff me out I'm in the southwest woods working all about Paper capers, never hurt them brothers to obtain If I can't refrain cause some of these niggaz snortin cain And really don't know which way to go Confused, you'll abuse anybody for a fix Hits go for ten bucks, go for 20 and they good and plenty Fat baggies like ?Maggies? muffin Where the kid do the stuffin Silly of these young niggaz watching me As I turn figures into solitare Twirl up my hair (down south) Pray to God I don’t have to do him Like I never knew or had no clue to who you was Cuz, face to face with a scar engraved upon his left cheek So to speak, ? like a icon when it was done to approach my mosse Be on that Rossie like The Click So I stay ready for combat and watch the rich get rich off it Chorus Nigga I ain't shit, I just know how to rhyme a little bit Nigga please, I'm still trying to squeeze my fat ass in where I fit Now I got a little dough, but it ain't that much mo than every other nigga I know We all still po I don't sell dope (what you doin?) I sell hope You wanna size me up my nigga then wear a scope Cause you gon see me on MLK and on T.V. I ain't got no fear, my nigga I was born to wait right here Late one night I was in a pearl white Acura Legendary I got that thang with me cause it's necessary Shit, I was just ridin Wasn't even thinking‘bout collidin But I kept seeing the same headlights running stop signs and red lights I don't prepared myself to die if it's my time to go He said "you know what it is, you done seen it before" This sad, of course I'ma be mad Well here you can have it god damnit if you want it that bad You would try to take from me, my nigga I ain't no star I value both of our lives more than this car You lucky nigga, I used to be you Shit and I'd bust a hole in your chest somebody could see through Now remember, shit, you could've died tonight And I would've been in the right I ain't even pissed you could just drop me off at the house Cause I ain't really dying by nothin like this He-he-he-he-he-he Everythang cool my nigga, you could just drop me off at the house Knahmsayin |
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