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King Tee

Got it Bad Y`all

  hip-hop  west coast rap  rap  west coast  hip hop
313,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни King Tee - Got it Bad Y`all

King Tee - Got it Bad Y`all слова песни




Intro:Ladies and gentleman, that nigga King Tee and the al-cum-a-holiksVerse One: J-RoPooh-butts play the rear cause I`m makin yapesThe rhymes ain`t no thicker than a, skittle grapesA lot of girls would like to thank me, for the hanky-pankyOn the mic I hold a belt, now I know no one could spank meIt took a long time for the people, to hear my rhymesSeems like I been rappin since my birth in `69Sorry to keep you waitin, I run rhymes like Walter PaytonI get a rhyme like spokes on a DaytonBut I won`t knock off, because I just rock offthe beats to get funky, like when you take your sock offTo all the white folks I would like to say howdyAnd to all my brothers I say peace quit actin rowdyWack MCs in ninety-two, ew you need to take a restthe public don`t you aim the best you`re softer than a hookers chestraps, I make em, snaps, I make emFor duties movin booties cause I shake shake shake emAnd I got rhymes, funky funky rhymesE-Swift hold the needle down with nickels and dimesI drink Olde English, St. Ide`s and MickeysWhen it`s time to roll I throw on my black dickeysOn the mic I get wicked, like Wilson PickettI get the place jumpin like a cricket when I kick shitI`m from the West coast but don`t sleep home-stimpyEven if I was a paperboy you still couldn`t rip meI walk up and chalk up pairs like the KnicksI`m all in the mix like snares, and kicksWhen it comes to rhymes I get loose like belt bucklesThose who chose to oppose this nose is felt knuckles(Where you goin` to?) To the tip(And what cha bout to do?) Bout to ripSome people use the word funky too looselyAnd just how many rappers say they kick it like Bruce Lee(What`s your favorite brew?) Olde E(And what it make you do?) Go peeIt used to be about rhymes, all about rhymesNow rappers rearrangin, and changin like timesI got it bad y`all, I got it bad y`allWhen it comes to the pen and the pad y`allI got it bad y`all, I got it bad y`allWhen it comes to the pen and the pad y`allVerse Two: E-SwiftBack the fuck up, gimme room to breathNot too many niggaz can flip the rhymes like theseI freak the technique as if it was a bitchGot more soul than the pit with a fifthPitch the ball, so I can beat it with the batTalk some shit, so I can smoke ya with my gatI`m feelin kind feelin kinda feelin kinda feelin kindafeelin kinda buzzed off a sack of chocolate tieMy my my ho, I like to rip the shows upSmack the hoes that walk around with they nose upRun to the liquor store, before they close upBuy a few 40s, cause daily I get to` upSit at the crib and write RIGGY RIGGY rhymesLine after line after LIGGY LIGGY lineYo I can get funky, buy my tape and bump meTo the break of dawn I hit the bud and pass it onHangin at the park, shootin craps on the weekendMy brown bag is wet cause my tall can is leakinStarin at the cops, beatin up on RodneyWhile a pack of O.G.`s steppin to me tryin to rob meJust because I`m dope, niggaz wanna smoke meOn the mic I get funky while you`re doin the hokey-pokeyDance steps, I think that you should leave to PaulaAlkaholiks is the shit, E-Swift`s the smooth bawlerIs slangin these rhymes like a rockLife ain`t shit but money and a glockDon`t punch a clock, but I cock a fat knotSo I can smoke a lot of pot that I roll up with topsAnd ya ain`t heard shit yet, I`m just gettin warmLike hot butter on, SAY WHAT?, THE POPCORNI`m headed to the top, please give me my propsMy beats are fat as fuck so bump my shit in your boxI love to hit the skinz, but then again WHO DOESN`TI love to hit the herbs cause it leave me feelin buzzinI dedicate this chumpie to the poets who can wreckAnd to all the nottie dreads I gots to give them nuff respect(Where you goin` to?) To the tip(And what cha bout to do?) Bout to ripSome people use the word funky too looselyAnd just how many niggaz say they kick it like Bruce Lee(What`s your favorite brew?) Olde E(And what it make you do?) Go peeIt used to be about rhymes, all about rhymesNow rappers rearrangin, and changin like timesI got it bad y`all, I got it bad y`allWhen it comes to the pen and the pad y`allI got it bad y`all, I got it bad y`allWhen it comes to the pen and the pad y`allVerse Three: King TeeUp jumps the man with the lootRockin like a troop with the Alkaholik groupEverything is kosher, got a little tallerLivin kinda phat cause King Tee`s a bawlerI just, irritate the wack, leave em so confusedWhen I`m checkin on the mic with the ones and twosSneak you a peek of the drunk techniqueCan`t stand up, need to take a seatBaby baby baby it`s the AlkaholiksBut I can freak the mic no matter how ya call itMetaphors grand, and I`m the great manDrink a whole fifth YES I CAN YES I CAN CANThe girls call me dick-em-downGot that title rockin for the crownCatch y`all later, around next weekendI`m a Alkaholik and I`m late for my meeting

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