| Lyrics: | Intro:
Check it on the one, you Com is gonna come (X3)
And check it out, ha.
Verse
1:
My raps do laps around tracks to the days
The idiot vibin', I'm the comma comma
Chamelion
I use to pop the willy on my blue and gray sting ray
It had maxed, I was with
bitches that had coochie
Bassum wasn't rollin' Starters, looking harder than niggas
Hoes
wore clothes, that exposed their figures
Ain't 7 steps in the jam, next the police
come
Heist there would be one, numbers I would get at least one
We come to the get together
with whatever
You wouldn't know how deep it was, we all did shit together
Eat up all your
vittles, drink your brew and then step to
The next cue, let's do it again y'all
That was
when mad was tall and phat was cold
The days of Old Chicage and Fun Town and shorties we run
round
Play strike outs till sun down, but the shit ain't as fun now
And the city is all run
down, we troop down to Jew Town
Talking cat down on some gear, have enough for a Polish incom
fair
I stare, at what use to be Bubbles and think about who use to cop our liquior
(Who?)
Our neighborhood father figure
Hook:
I'm out with my crew, ain't nuthin' to do but
ah,
"Niggas be rollin'" - Ol' Dirty Bastard from Protect Ya Neck
Ain't nowhere to go, so I
hook up with a hoe while I
"Niggas be rollin'"
Gotta make a stop take a leak and get some
chops cause um
"Niggas be rollin'"
We gonna hit the streets for some brew and some eats
cause um
"Niggas be rollin'"
Verse 2:
I got more rhymes then the Manor got folks
had style
Since I went to McDowl, wearin' boats
And penny loafers know I had the nickel in
mines
We use to hoop in my yard but now I dribble the rhyme-a |
