Текст песни Andre Nickatina - Bakin` Soda in Minnesota
Andre Nickatina - Bakin` Soda in Minnesota слова песни
52 carat blue diamondRhymin`, interior designin`, grindin`You can shake cheddar like me on the micHit your point, hold your money when you`re rollin` the dice, babyUhh.. either you go crash-and-burnOr wake up in the morning with cash to earn, tigaCheck it homie get good with meIf just I can find your hood againWho is that in the car? yo couldn`t beAll the way out here, yeah Nicki tRussian, get the weed sparkedGet the party startedAnd watch yo back fo the sharkNigga cold-heartedWe got bakin sodaAll the way down in minnesotaWe got bakin sodaDown in minnesotaI got a fetish for Adidas, bossBut I betcha don`t know what my Fila`s cost, do yaOn chew, like dem baby pit bullsAnd ain`t no way you can touch my....coolThe 12th floor at the MarriotYou know, me and my tigaz chill there a lotFettiI sit alone when the mic`s onWith Tyson every time that the fight`s on, kill `emI remember rhymes used to ride with netsFlight at the midnight high with jetsYou know Al Capone stretched tryi` to save the setsAnd I`m teflon down, t shirts and gatsRhymes you can taste, Rhymes, Rhymes galoreRhymes you can buy at the candy storeYou know who I am, I`m like credit card scamHot like tofu, greens and yamsExtra-curricula, netting that riddiculaHit the cloud like the bear or the fiddilaShouldn`ve lied, I coulda been a good friend to yaNow I got to get rid of yaWe got bakin sodaAll the way down in minnesotaWe got bakin sodaDown in minnesotaI told my mom somethin` that made her cryLooked her in the eye and said rappers don`t dieWe not gonna have an` tour, but we gon get bySo most of us gonna be in hell high, kickin`Now put the rhyme on a triple beamNow rock it up, and chop it upAnd try to grind into triple creamDon`t get caught with the same schemeMeaning don`t get caught with the same thing, KingIt`s like you got to be baldCuz hoes and niggaz wanna see you go farI think they mad when I ticks them offBut I`m a hyena so I got to laugh and break some offThe hot wax that`s real fatalSup`d up to perfection like a weapon on a turntableThey say Gretta`s got a new barettaAnd he`ll be aiming his gat like a crooked letter, forevaI hit the night like stormy weatherAnd if you brag about your freak, i`mma say mine`s way betterI rotate like the hands of a clockAnd find ways to make my rap beat all on your blockYou better knock on the door tigaAnd lay them all on the floor tigaCuz I think they want more tigaI blow `em out like a flat tireAnd hit the weed for Richard PryorThen call `em all straight liarsThe corks in me like the tail of a foxSo get the grease hot, niggaOr your tigaz`ll be caught