Текст песни B-Real, Dirty Ray, Kam, Ras Kass, Spice - Still More Bounce
B-Real, Dirty Ray, Kam, Ras Kass, Spice - Still More Bounce слова песни
* send corrections to the typist[Voice Vocoder]Rest in peace, RogerBounce, more bounce, more bounce (We live this shit}Bounce, more bounce, more bounce (W-we live this shit)Bounce, more bounce, more bounce (W-we live this shit)Bounce, more bounce, more bounce (W-w-w-we live this shit)Bounce, more bounce[Ras Kass]Yeah yeah, more bounce to the ounce, so keep fuck a ounce, niggaIt`s Still More Bounce to the ounce, keep fuck a ounce, hehStill More Bounce, we wanna keep fuck a ounce thoYeah, Battlecat, nigga Dirty Ray listenI`m like Terminator 2 askin where Sarah Connor isTwo side bustas kick rocks like narcotics anonymousEver since the top (ever since the top)I remember dudes in Karate shoes Pop Lockin to RogerNow it`s 2000, a new world orderThe birth of G-Funk, Roger created the vocoderSo haters slide to the side, let the riders ride*Singin* - Ooh ooh ooh, now I own mine (muthafucka)[B-Real]It`s the track slayer, on your CD playerThe Budda King, blunt smokin the weed wayerRidin from the EastSide of LA, who what?You holdin my nuts, like a hice cup runnin upKeep yo mouth shut cos you talk too muchYou cant fold, what the hell, you need the glocks too much (bitch!)Rather the way bitches betta get heavyWhen I hit the corner all you see is the light from the Chevy[Dirty Ray]Chevy, yo, zzp-zzp!Now can I bang bang? (bang bang) picture Roger & ZappA dominatrac cat, on Purple Haze and ConynacDirty Ray, fo fo fo microphonesWolfpac shakin ya Time Zone and fadin ya home(Gimme a dome) - Twenty inches hit the sceneSmoke screen, open the do, big gold chain gleamWe get low down and dirty fo that Triban Family2002, Roger R-I-P, come on[Spice 1 - Hook]We pop these collars, what we boutLets have all y`all falla, what we boutSmoke up ya whole ounce, then we bounceRoger Zapp Battlecat, this is Still More BounceJus bounce to this, jus bounce (Ah hah)Jus bounce to this, jus bounce (Yeah yeah)Jus bounce to this, jus bounce (Come on)Jus bounce to this, jus bounce (Uh)[Kam]Uh check, uh uh uhWatch out sucker, matter of fact duck (fuck fuck fuck)Out the window of my Cadillac Truck, and whats up?We rollin paper plates, homies movin crates of tapesWhile y`all wearin captains savin no crapes on daytonsI am one of the greats, know you might be hurtBaby aint nobody retire`n in my White T-ShirtAs long as fools still feel, and trust I`m realIma keep bustin big rhymes dimes nuts and steel(I aint that type of brother that Cs can walk wit)Man I aint politically correct, Ima talk shitAbout these mucic industry characters, cos there aint no debate`nThese record company people be hatin, females be degratin their selvesThinkin the desk gon lastThats why I`m quick to put these chickens on blastTryna tell me "I`m so and so, I`m this, I`m that"But they all jus wick-weak-wacks*Vocoder Solo*[Tash]Say what? uh say what? uh yo uhIf this was `87 when bangin was at its peakThis song woulda had em closin clubs every weekCos we speak the really real, speak how we really feelCome work for me have ya niggas stealin wheelsDaytons, BGs, what ever rims housinI need sum 19s fo my Benz 2000Work wit me homeboy, it`s all luvI told you 19s, you came back wit dubsWhen push come to shove, Tash knocks em out the boxYou might hear me at a club or on a boom-box in WattsJus swangin, raps over beats that humpThats why a nigga like CaTash get it crunk from jumpI Slam-Dunk the funk like a Alley-Loop to ShaqY`all fools so wack ya prolly cant rap to ZappSo slap yo`self, this is Wolfpac RecordsRest In Peace Roger, your music was respected