Sticky Fingers Songtext
von Coolio

Brainiac, with a zany act, cleptomaniac
Before I go to work, I smoke me a fat sack
Of indo, then climb through the window
And eye the VCR, and load it in the pinto huh!
Yes I′m on my way to the bait
Or should I say the pawn shop, but I don't smoke rocks

Some people say I′m crazy and they think I'm on crack
'Cause I hock all the shit and I never get it back
Coolio loco, you better call bronco
Stole a link from my auntie, and sold it to my uncle

Took the flowers from a hearse, romanced a nurse
Put the girl to sleep, then I went through her purse
Bandit, underhanded, yes I′m scanless

Snake in the grass fool, I′m taking chances
If the price is right, you can call me a killer
Before I was a rap singer, they called me sticky finger


("But he's stickin you, and takin′ all of you money")
("I ain't never got gaffled like that")
("Don′t, you blink, or I'ma rob your ass blind")
("What you doin stickin′ in that people's window?")

(Gimme that) big fat dope sack
(Gimme that) ca-di-llac
(Gimme that) big gold chain
(That's the life, that I lead)

Coolio call me shady, janky, slick right
You and your crew better duck from my gunshots
I takes no shit, carryin′ no drama
If I can′t get you, I bust a cap on your momma

I never had a grip, so I learn how to shoplift
My trenchcoat is long and now I got some fresh shit
Yeah, buddy, shit's looking good
Gets much props and respect from the hood
Caps from my raps and a trunk full of hubcaps

Step to the crew, and you′re bound to catch a pimp slap
But I don't pimp no b- for my dough
They got somethin I want, I just rob the h-
Early birds catch the worm, so I crow like a rooster


They follow me round the store because they know that I′m a booster
Tell me what you want and I'll be the stealer
Call me Coolio, or call me sticky fingers

(Coolio, a motherf- black dawg)
(First they do′ ring, now they mob ring)
(Told you before, you shouldn't never fell asleep)
(Give it up, give it up, give it up)

I don't wanna go to jail, ′cause I don′t like the lockup
Turn out the lights and get ready for the sock up
One plus three equals four for the knockout
Got circles on that ass like a Mike Tyson punchout

You better hide your shit, if you wanna keep it
I'm driving down the street in your ′llac while you're sleepin′
I was born with a sickness, that they call brokeness
Never said I was the best, but I'm damn sure the loc′est

Up, up, and away, like a rocket
Some fool got shot, now I'm goin' through his pockets
He won′t be needing no dollars where he′s going
And when I get to hell, I'ma act like I don′t know him

I'm taking everything that ain′t bolted to the floor
And before I go, I steal the knocker of your front door
Let me be free for I'm a thief and a gangster
Before I was a rap singer, they called me sticky fingers

(Yeah we want everything, do you have any dreams, we want them too)