- DJ Clue? Brown Paper Bag Thoughts 歌詞
- DJ Clue?
- Yo man what,
Yo yall niggas know
Yo you know all that bullshit man
Yeah, some niggas dont even
These niggas man,
Whats the matter wid these niggas man?
Nah man Im puttin this shit up
Fuck dat man
Yall niggas want me to be a crook again
I know how to do that man dont even play wid me like that,
Yo Verse 1 :
We spit rap and fire brown paper bag gat rap go whack and float acrooss the map floss that anything yell endorse that
Electric company money honey
Gin Romie wrap em like a mummy his style bummy
Puffy Johnson
Charles Bronson mix fly deuce flicks new and improved clicks
Wu-kit Blood on the barrel of a desert out in the desert no shadell live in my square blow the present
Clue Red meat
Shallah want adapt to collect acting like you iller on some serial killer you wack duke shirt off react like
Im bagging up stabbing up what collect a brick pop shit in the six trunk
Nah nah man,
Nah man you wanna have that shit again
Why you aint taking this shit to be something that it really is man?
This you life man,
Shoalin and desert storm
This mic man he he acting stupid on me man
What What
What Verse 2:
Yo, Aiyyo, yo
Moseyin thousand dollar uniform you want
Celine Dion chickenheads yo straight out of
Houston Big ballers wall to wall brawlers die for us
Lie for us, snatch white man money cry for us
Creepin through the halls on a keyboard
Friendly blessed dress and all
Fendi voice rock dont offend me intimidation make me blow for the station rep for one nation
Ghetto bust like revelation, analyse losin two wives livin two lives
Crew rise
American Cream new guys
Two hundred pies get rich and plan sweet
Rappin like mines you writing like mines they lines
Grab my dick stay in line we come to whip nines
Hold lot of carrying time and teaching crackers how to shine, oh yeah one thing recognise fucking wit the young keep em organised rest in peace
Donny my soul cries,
What I dunn hold it, hold it, hold it, hold it
Natural light up, light up, thats my word
This is this is for
Clue right here dunn
Verse 3: Im third rail though half seal and
I blow Robert
Deniro dough gundelero let the steel blow
Here me yo wild
Trump style dunns connect three hundred ones while floating like a ?macual chest bloaw? most craziest laziest
All I seeing blazes majorness mechanic wreckor on a beige disc payin whether level bank rolls freakin plain clothes
Lex big six arrange those snotty nose pose dark skinned hoes crazy ill fly jersey exposed neck rolls fuck your set flash let those stare the
Lex nose watching vet po posing wit the most fly livest gortex made in
Mexico, Brancs fifteen five
Celine Dion ties two thousand nine bubble eye shit *talking by
Raekwon and
DJ Clue* Clue
Killuminati
John Gotti story right here fella
Huh, Yeah,
Word up
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