- Theodore Unit Pass The Mic 歌詞
- Theodore Unit
- Yall mutha****as know who this be
Its Theodore, yo, let me hear somethin my ***** Let me hear something [Wigs] We the champion, we spit like, top of the line Hold weight while you still push nickel and dime And my shine hold my stones than your local jeweler More ice than a picnic cooler, Slick Wigs the Ruler Round the raincoat, stash my gat in the car wash How I got such a smooth flow, but I spit too harsh Butter nut squash leather, big face cheddar Dont **** with no groupie, hid in a high school sweater We rope rats, roll money stuffed in stacks Rock show after show, and dont claim no tax Got custom deep pockets and my pimpin slacks And my tephlon shirt, in case they got gats [Trife Da God] Yo Wigs, this is Theodore, you know how we rock it [Solomon Childs] Trife Da God, show these ****** why they aint poppin [Trife Da God] Im not enthused, by these rap dudes All in they videos, posin half nude, with all of them tattoos Til I blacken they eyes and have them lookin like raccoon Now they stuck tail, stuffed in they ass like a baboon I do you dirty like a table chop, and the blocks on fire These ****** be rockin more wires than a cable box Hit you with a fatal shot, lay you to rest Get your cradle rocked, by two glocks aimed to your chest They say its deep, and never lose his stripes Well put his ass in a cage with this iron, bet he lose his life Im a beast like Priest Holmes, keep spittin themweak poems And Imma wreck you and straight disconnect you like cheap phones You can ride for you team and die with the marines For tryin to intervene, while Imma tryin to get this CREAM [Ghostface Killah] Aiyo, knick knack patty wack, light up, twist a fatty jack Four shotties, and playin them lobbies where those cracks be at Stay foul, break vows, ****** sniff gun pow-der Check my caliber, make sure it register Bring forth your head and stuff, dont wanna huff, puff Or cuss, get stuffed in little bags, like angel dust Check out the bangle cuts, double rocks, tangled up And couples got bubbles, in the tub, lightin the double Dutch Hey, hey, hey, Ghostface and Donna Jay Trife Dies, Killa Bamz, Wigs, Kryme got the yay All day, all up in your hood like court dates Concealed heat, like a sheep dog or a NorthFace Small space, more bass, polly like shore bait Molly got four trays , and pinned dog with raw haze Just like the old days, Willie Mays, with a low cut fade Duster play the Giant, when Im on stage [Trife Da God] Pretty Tone, yeah I see you in the cockpit [Solomon Childs] Donna Jay, put his face in the dirt like an ostrich [Cappadonna] Nah, I dont really have to spit nothin to complex I just rep for my hood, and it sound correct Its mic checka, Juan Don, in the place to be And I be playin on these tracks, like one, two, three One some Theodore ****, like it once was me With the laid back ****, like the country be Bone the hoes, all the time, smoke blunts with G Goon Squad Hooligans, got fronts in Jeeps Why you jealous mutha****as gotta jump my beats Trife Diesel and Ghostface dump they heats In your face, real hard, straight lump they meats Wont sell cracks to you, but I pump the streets And tear ***** out the frame, while you hump the sheets And I know yall ****** hate, and cant wait til Im gone Thats why I keep drivin on by, tootin my horn Da-da-da-de-da- duhhhh
|
|