Текст песни T-Love f Kool Keith - Return of the B-Girl
T-Love f Kool Keith - Return of the B-Girl слова песни
[Kool Keith]Yeah whassup T-LoveA lot of brothers be freestylin (right)Blowin smoke at your clothesGirls be out there with, weaves withglue in they scalps, tryin to get looseBut it`s time to drop gooses! (true dat)YouknowhatI`msayin?"T, hit it off!"[T-Love]There`s a lot of girls rhymin on the mic with no directionDon`t know why they flexin, forgot rules and lessonsThe essence: beats and rhymes and shitI`m about to show these bitches that I`ll die for thisWith more than the skills to pay the bills at ?, I rock itNobody knows my name, at least I`m hittin pocketIt`s been a while.. "been-been-a, been-a, been a long time" -> RaYeah, it`s been a long time since B-Girls got downNow I be, mannered like Janet, Jack-me when I`m not lookinCause iffin I`m lookin, then you get YO` shit tookenA hundred degrees of heat, under emcees who sleep-walkinin some bibles since the age of threeSee I be a rap editor, rhymer et ceterato the letter or competitor, not in it for the cheddarA calligraphist, envisionistYeah it`s been a long time but I`m back to make a diff`Chorus: Kool KeithThat girl is wack.. That kid is wack..That producer`s wack.. Your whole family`s wack.."So wack that it`s bound to show"[Kool Keith]I`m systematic, graphic, outspoken, master past a certain MCAbilities of enemies, construct nine million quitrillionmakes a brother brilliant, strong like EinsteinI find the underlying, words with verbs herbMake me famous when I pull up on your anusIt`s disaster for the tri-state actor, in a circle like UrkelYo T-Love, these assholes are dirt specks on my rugsSmokin blunts with stomach pumpsPick up the mic, your crew`ll only rhyme onceFor the budget, 70,000 Monopoly moneyWith a wack producer, usin Sonny SpitzYou on that "Keep it Real" list, you`re brokeYou`re name is Captain Provoke, better know you ain`tnever eatin Tony Rhomes, files of culture I`m still dopeeven not with Ultra -- back you saved this from Casio samplesI`m raw like green applesFly smooth, I ain`t got nuttin to proveYour album has been out for foreverYou didn`t even go pletherPlastic was your quota, Mr. Spiritual PhilosopherPrepare for your release for foul speechYou weak, like Cream of WheatI step to you and blow out assholes like Miami HeatYo, take off those boots, it`s ninety-five degrees out hereIt`s fuckin hot"So wack that it`s bound to show"Chorus[T-Love]Return of the B-Girl promisesnothing less, than spectacular, with vernacularPeep how T mackin the verblike hoes strollin, on Pharoah, I`m givin you the narrowThe L-Down, I mean the skinny, this Pickaninnywent to rock battle, while she rides up to Denny`sNah I ain`t really tryin to diss nobodyBut old school B-Girls swore in the GoddessIn studded Gazelles, they did windmillsWest had on the Pumas, East had on the ShellsRock the Bells sell prevailed by L`s lipsSerious about the type of styles we flippedWe get closer to millenium, B-Girls dwindlinYou don`t have to stress because "I`m, comin!"It`s been a long time, I shouldn`t have left youSorry for the wack shit you slept throughChorus 2X[Kool Keith]Yeah, it`s return of the B-GirlT-Love in the house for the nine-sevenPullin all, glue off wigsThat`s right, damagin skullsThat`s right it`s all beauty parlor skillsThat`s rightTouchin up on the weaves and cuttin ends off