AWA

I Don't Play

Track byKool Keith

3
0
  • 1999.05.01
  • 5:05
AWAで聴く

歌詞

[Kool Keith] Yo yo yo Worldwide, worldwide Kool Keith in Bronx housing Ninety-nine, 2000 As we get biz, yeah I'ma let you have it Let's do this Yo, my life is clientele, while pro people talk about me Cut empty pocket, shark faces like electric sockets Sideburns with afro, nasty pro, throw like Rollo In Wells Fargo, cashin checks while you tryin to borrow My game is cut through, plastic come, we can see through disco music, jazz loops, I ain't tryin to be you Nineteen-ninety-nine, 2000 black, new design My head is on right Back up kid you wasn't born right Playin center I block your wack raps like Bill Cartwright Pick up your rebounds, plastic soft production sounds All MC groups will be cartoons like Mother Goose No joke I bust back Kid for real, watch your buttcrack Entourages, movin neighborhoods like Mr. Rogers Slam rhymes on concrete, mash em up in car garages Cadillac spin, open magazines, Vibe again You're jealous stare lickin, paws like you're Rin-Tin-Tin I'm back again, I stop your programs like Gentle Ben Yeah (yeah.. yeah.. yeah..) Chorus: Kool Keith (repeat 4X) I'll be the man, watch your backpack, pen and pencil School today! Grown man, I don't play [Kool Keith] Back up the turnpike, watch Mad Max turn into you Get gassed at truckstops, leave diesel fuel, burnin through you I come to boo you, best believe, I'm a damager Cancel shows, interviews, I don't need no manager Slash fan, half of y'all, think I'm the Elephant Man Look through my records analyze me like I'm Michael Jackson Collect my vinyl DJ moves spinnin on my wax and groupies in line, camera flashes, I don't need the action Sweaty hotels, dumbbells, I'd rather shop in Modell's while y'all wear backpacks, with corny macks, rollin L's CD's get melted, ask your favorite rapper, how he felt it I turn on others, light up this, when I'm cookin muffins That's on the grill, make your girlfriend buy my Ampex reels Pay for studio time, droppin verse with dope words I'm on the real herb, pick up mics you got some nerve Rahway State Prison bring my projects in the music business That's if you with this, yo Craig, there will be no witness I'm comin through with Bronx Crew, a black, boo-ba-babboon Tecs in my pockets make your feets dance, do the lockin Yeah (yeah.. yeah.. yeah.. yeah..) Chorus [Kool Keith] Yo, what are you doin lookin in my closet? Why are you tryin to try on my sneakers? Stop lookin around in my kitchen That's right it's Honeycomb up there, raviolis Everything a regular man eats I'm not the Elephant Man, whassup? You don't scare me, I'm the man that bought your girl some hair Walk in giant arenas and stop your show at Madison Square With security, you can't call the Secret Service Got your roadie cases packed up, your bookin agent nervous Backstage passes special units break your Fendi glasses Cancel your flights, Town Car, see me in the brown car Rip up your passport, I follow you through Kennedy airport Lock up the gates, town seize up, like Norman Bates Book Hotel Niko change my face up, in Puerto Rico Julio Gongado bumpin beats, in a El Dorado I'm movin swiftly, the game is fast, very quickly Greyhound bus tickets, I'll vick you for the whole season That's the reason I'll be easin, eatin cheese and that's right kid, yeah (yeah.. yeah..) Chorus Yeah, that's right, watch your backpacks For the nine-nine to the 2000 From Bronx Housing Housing..

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