Gutta Songtext
von Dope D.O.D.
Gutta Songtext
I′m poppin' off, all these niggas know I got the force
Knock it off, or I′mma spray your face with davidoff
We showin' off, when I'm flowin′ I′m a poet dog
I know it's arc when the big blacks goin′ off
Showin' kill niggas bill cause I hold them pills
All them real niggas ain′t got that dope that kills
(Dope D.O.D. we smoke like we burn in hell)
Now throw the fire for my furnace grill
See I'm a lil′ wolf sniff nigga
I eat chips with little bit dip nigga
I eat clits make a motherfuckers bitch shiver
I'm Rick James, just a hip nigga
And I, came to kick it with ya, spliff with left the nigga
Another sippin' liquour, call me jack the tripper
Now I′mma grab your sister, and get nasty with her
It′s what I do, I'm true rap master
(The four horsemen have return, to take back what′s ours)
The bad wolfs gets blowed out the house
Sippin' famous grouse yelling fuck your couch
The only way play this is loud
I walk through the streets at night, when the freaks come out
I′m a freak for sure, I'mma freak you out
You′re a spliff to me, twist you inside out
Born to be wild G, header on the highway
My way is the highway so light it up (Come roll with the Vicious)
Deaf bridges of rap rock the bathroom to slippers
Off the top like big tiger, fingerling with a number 23 sticka
I get it in, fuck settling, get em in medicine man
Ostrich MC's stick the head in the sand
I walk away with a head in my hands
And a bloody bootleg of each fag in your pan
(Realize that this so called hype, is nothing more than the bag of dust
Compared to the gods of creation, now parish)
Shut them off, cut em down, when you die, you're free
Used to run with the gunners like RVP
No close doors, got the master key
Watching get burned to the third degree
6′3" MC here to kill you, just to have a problem and I think I still do
It′s a Déjà vu and it's long overdue, most of y′all have alot to live up to
Alot of talkin' not alot of action
Chillin′ in your mansion talking about fashion
The passion is absent, dissatisfaction
I'm here to conquer like the old saxons
The main attraction would happen, feel the new contracion
We lasting, laugh at you bastards
Blasting, and trashing, smash if we clash
We surpassing, no bashing, no classics, what?!
Knock it off, or I′mma spray your face with davidoff
We showin' off, when I'm flowin′ I′m a poet dog
I know it's arc when the big blacks goin′ off
Showin' kill niggas bill cause I hold them pills
All them real niggas ain′t got that dope that kills
(Dope D.O.D. we smoke like we burn in hell)
Now throw the fire for my furnace grill
See I'm a lil′ wolf sniff nigga
I eat chips with little bit dip nigga
I eat clits make a motherfuckers bitch shiver
I'm Rick James, just a hip nigga
And I, came to kick it with ya, spliff with left the nigga
Another sippin' liquour, call me jack the tripper
Now I′mma grab your sister, and get nasty with her
It′s what I do, I'm true rap master
(The four horsemen have return, to take back what′s ours)
The bad wolfs gets blowed out the house
Sippin' famous grouse yelling fuck your couch
The only way play this is loud
I walk through the streets at night, when the freaks come out
I′m a freak for sure, I'mma freak you out
You′re a spliff to me, twist you inside out
Born to be wild G, header on the highway
My way is the highway so light it up (Come roll with the Vicious)
Deaf bridges of rap rock the bathroom to slippers
Off the top like big tiger, fingerling with a number 23 sticka
I get it in, fuck settling, get em in medicine man
Ostrich MC's stick the head in the sand
I walk away with a head in my hands
And a bloody bootleg of each fag in your pan
(Realize that this so called hype, is nothing more than the bag of dust
Compared to the gods of creation, now parish)
Shut them off, cut em down, when you die, you're free
Used to run with the gunners like RVP
No close doors, got the master key
Watching get burned to the third degree
6′3" MC here to kill you, just to have a problem and I think I still do
It′s a Déjà vu and it's long overdue, most of y′all have alot to live up to
Alot of talkin' not alot of action
Chillin′ in your mansion talking about fashion
The passion is absent, dissatisfaction
I'm here to conquer like the old saxons
The main attraction would happen, feel the new contracion
We lasting, laugh at you bastards
Blasting, and trashing, smash if we clash
We surpassing, no bashing, no classics, what?!
Writer(s): Frank Boersma, Mark Van Dijk, Jannes Lelieveld, Peter Lelieveld Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
