Speakeasy Songtext
von Bun B feat. Twista & Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis
Speakeasy Songtext
[** feat. Twista & Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis:]
[Intro: ~Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis~]
Please settle downs!*
Everybody sit down!
Sit down for a second!
Mildred!
Mildred, get yo′ goddamn feet off the table! [beat starts] (It's a Big E beat!)
C′mon now, shit!
This is, this is why we don't ever have nothin', man.
It′s a good evenin′ here, Ceddy St. Louis!
This right here about to bring to the stage is a gentleman from Port Arther, Texas!
Real gentleman, real singer, real story teller!
Real gangsta!
A true veteran of the bidness!
Y'all show him some love...
Talk to ′em Bun!
[Bun B:]
Thank y'all for comin′ to see me this evenin' (yeah!)
Cookin′ this cajun I laced it with seasonin' (huh!)
In here! (huh!) - I been here and don't plan on leavin′
The king of the trill′s 'bout to pass, who′s receivin'?
I′m throwin', I′m throwed on, the mic I explode
Slow all that bangin mayne just like my load.
Don't test me or stress me! - I'm in that mode
Where I could just black out and leave yo′ ass flo′ed.
Benzes and Beamers, I drove 'em and slabbed ′em
Big booty hoes I exposed 'em and grabbed ′em.
Take 'em right out of they clothes and I have ′em
They pussy is golden! (what?) - My dick is platinum!
And hard as a diamond, I'm hard when I'm rhymin′
I′m closer to God - like Eric B. I'm in
That get money frame of mind - any day and time
That′s what this is and shit ain't no shame in mine.
[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis]
... come on and show ′em!
Yo show 'em, Bun!
Do that airway and touch somebody!
[Bun B:]
Back on that bullshit so bring in the cattle
Ready for war so let′s get to the battle.
Niggaz is babies with bottles and rattles,
The street lights is on, it's your curfew, ske-daddle.
That all you got G? You comin' up short!
You ain′t got the muscle, you ain′t got the heart!
You need actin' classes, you can′t play the part!
Yo' mind ain′t on money, you need to get smart!
I'm known to spit darts that′ll land in the center,
Right in the red for the breadwinner in her.
Stack in the summer, the ball in the winter
I'm grippin' that wood (shit!) just got a splinter.
You′s a beginner, a novice, a rookie!
How you got bricks when you can′t cop a cookie?
We after paper, you after the nookie
You bet against me and you lost, pay the bookie!
[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis]
Yo, just give, give, give, give me a second!
Give me a second!
Godamn it Charlene!
I'm not gon′ sayin' it again!
Maybe I′d have to pull my pistol out right here.
You're not gon′ like it.
Get up! Get, somebody with him!
Get this lil' nigga!
Aiight!
Ladies and gentlemen...
Anyway yo!
Woodsmith!
The storyteller!
[Twista:]
Twista! - They-can-never-run-in-my-shoes! - They-know-nothin'-′bout-the-ones-and-the-two′s (nope!)
Murder-to-the-drums-when-I-bruise, Twista-killin'-them-with-Bun-and-the-Blues (yup!)
Competition-better-study-harder-cause-I-feel-like-we-done-found-another-tune (tune!)
They-gon′-try-to-to-be-like-Muddy-Waters, I'm a-be-the-man-howlin′-at-the-Moon (arooo!)
Comin'-up-and-standin′-on-my-stack (stack) a-veteran-but-keep-my-lyrics-dope (dope)
And-you-still-listen-out-the-riiide! (ride!) - I-ain't-even-got-a-car-note! (nope)
Y'all-ain′t-snappin′-cause-you-wicked-crushed-and-I'm a-get-′em, I-could-tell-her (tell her!) [acapella]
Fall-dash-rapper-when-you-tell-'em-bust, he-can-even-spit-the-a-cappella! (′pella!) [acapella end]
He can even come right off the top. (no!) - He don't kill ′em even though he crumb (no)
He can only kill 'em in the studio when somebody can help him make a song. (yeah!)
Ask me why I don't hear it, I told ya!
It′s nothin but bullshit lyrics in yo′ folder. (haha!)
On the blues we come colder! - Bun B's a boa!
Constrictor, Twista inflicts the pain of a cobra! (ssss!)
Flame and I′m a show ya! - The remains of a soldier
Down home blues killin' niggaz in the game, ′til it's over.
[Outro: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis]
The new...
And, and always forth comin′!
Fourth ten!
You know?
He's on!
And non of that bullshit skippity-dobbity doo-bap-wap-the-dap!
Do you heard about Bun B?
Can, can he rap nig'...
The mothafucka can rap; damn it!
That′s what I′m sayin'!
He′s the shit! [beat stops]
[Intro: ~Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis~]
Please settle downs!*
Everybody sit down!
Sit down for a second!
Mildred!
Mildred, get yo′ goddamn feet off the table! [beat starts] (It's a Big E beat!)
C′mon now, shit!
This is, this is why we don't ever have nothin', man.
It′s a good evenin′ here, Ceddy St. Louis!
This right here about to bring to the stage is a gentleman from Port Arther, Texas!
Real gentleman, real singer, real story teller!
Real gangsta!
A true veteran of the bidness!
Y'all show him some love...
Talk to ′em Bun!
[Bun B:]
Thank y'all for comin′ to see me this evenin' (yeah!)
Cookin′ this cajun I laced it with seasonin' (huh!)
In here! (huh!) - I been here and don't plan on leavin′
The king of the trill′s 'bout to pass, who′s receivin'?
I′m throwin', I′m throwed on, the mic I explode
Slow all that bangin mayne just like my load.
Don't test me or stress me! - I'm in that mode
Where I could just black out and leave yo′ ass flo′ed.
Benzes and Beamers, I drove 'em and slabbed ′em
Big booty hoes I exposed 'em and grabbed ′em.
Take 'em right out of they clothes and I have ′em
They pussy is golden! (what?) - My dick is platinum!
And hard as a diamond, I'm hard when I'm rhymin′
I′m closer to God - like Eric B. I'm in
That get money frame of mind - any day and time
That′s what this is and shit ain't no shame in mine.
[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis]
... come on and show ′em!
Yo show 'em, Bun!
Do that airway and touch somebody!
[Bun B:]
Back on that bullshit so bring in the cattle
Ready for war so let′s get to the battle.
Niggaz is babies with bottles and rattles,
The street lights is on, it's your curfew, ske-daddle.
That all you got G? You comin' up short!
You ain′t got the muscle, you ain′t got the heart!
You need actin' classes, you can′t play the part!
Yo' mind ain′t on money, you need to get smart!
I'm known to spit darts that′ll land in the center,
Right in the red for the breadwinner in her.
Stack in the summer, the ball in the winter
I'm grippin' that wood (shit!) just got a splinter.
You′s a beginner, a novice, a rookie!
How you got bricks when you can′t cop a cookie?
We after paper, you after the nookie
You bet against me and you lost, pay the bookie!
[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis]
Yo, just give, give, give, give me a second!
Give me a second!
Godamn it Charlene!
I'm not gon′ sayin' it again!
Maybe I′d have to pull my pistol out right here.
You're not gon′ like it.
Get up! Get, somebody with him!
Get this lil' nigga!
Aiight!
Ladies and gentlemen...
Anyway yo!
Woodsmith!
The storyteller!
[Twista:]
Twista! - They-can-never-run-in-my-shoes! - They-know-nothin'-′bout-the-ones-and-the-two′s (nope!)
Murder-to-the-drums-when-I-bruise, Twista-killin'-them-with-Bun-and-the-Blues (yup!)
Competition-better-study-harder-cause-I-feel-like-we-done-found-another-tune (tune!)
They-gon′-try-to-to-be-like-Muddy-Waters, I'm a-be-the-man-howlin′-at-the-Moon (arooo!)
Comin'-up-and-standin′-on-my-stack (stack) a-veteran-but-keep-my-lyrics-dope (dope)
And-you-still-listen-out-the-riiide! (ride!) - I-ain't-even-got-a-car-note! (nope)
Y'all-ain′t-snappin′-cause-you-wicked-crushed-and-I'm a-get-′em, I-could-tell-her (tell her!) [acapella]
Fall-dash-rapper-when-you-tell-'em-bust, he-can-even-spit-the-a-cappella! (′pella!) [acapella end]
He can even come right off the top. (no!) - He don't kill ′em even though he crumb (no)
He can only kill 'em in the studio when somebody can help him make a song. (yeah!)
Ask me why I don't hear it, I told ya!
It′s nothin but bullshit lyrics in yo′ folder. (haha!)
On the blues we come colder! - Bun B's a boa!
Constrictor, Twista inflicts the pain of a cobra! (ssss!)
Flame and I′m a show ya! - The remains of a soldier
Down home blues killin' niggaz in the game, ′til it's over.
[Outro: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis]
The new...
And, and always forth comin′!
Fourth ten!
You know?
He's on!
And non of that bullshit skippity-dobbity doo-bap-wap-the-dap!
Do you heard about Bun B?
Can, can he rap nig'...
The mothafucka can rap; damn it!
That′s what I′m sayin'!
He′s the shit! [beat stops]
Writer(s): Bernard James Freeman, Carl Mitchell, C. Kyles, Elimu Tabasuri Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
