G.M.C.
Lyrics
"I found Viktor Vaughn the next morning
Nearly frozen to death"
Party people know the name
Vik' with a "K", if it's all the same
If it ain't don't bother
Told the little monster
"No I ain't yo' father it's Uncle Viktor
Shut the lights I'm gettin' dizzy
And close the door can't you
See ya momma busy?" what a scoundrel!
Gassed up the town fool to
Go rob the crown jewel
He's like a lego megalomaniac
Who's into electronic and techno
A real brainiac
Smack dab in the hip hop gold rush
V, rather the old stuff
Preferably the Cold Crush
It gets deeper than Deepak Chopra
Except he keep a stack
And some cheap-ass vodka kneecap poppa
Only when he miss the chewy center
At least he always hit's who he meant ta
Remember he got a short fuse and bad temper
And a plan to claim emperor by December
Member of the most player hated race
Who made this invaded place and
Stated with a straight face
"If I cut her off I might miss her
But one of these days right in the kisser!"
She probably get mad at me, I bet ya
It gets her nowhere like flattery
She said, "Where were you last Saturday?
And don't lie we got your
Fingerprints off the battery"
Don't make me have to bling you
Or see you in the street and
Doubleteam you with the emu
He told her, "When the gem paper tear off
It'll probably tear her ear off
Before y'all even square off"
No good good-for nothin
Kill her high for no frill
Like 'Good Will Huntin'
He feels out of place like Bizarro
Fiesty chick
Comes all out her face like Charo
It's Vaughn, he's back on
And you know he don't care
Like Jimmy Crack Corn wax off, wax on
Tried to raise taxes on cracks and black porn
Another year passes
Gone are the days when he
Used to wear glasses now he wear contacts
Unfrozen caveman look over the contracts
These crews is too soft
He came to tear the roof off
To get paid to goof off
They don't really wanna battle
All they gon' do is get mad and go tattle
Tell 'em a retard said it
He ripped up the WE CARD sign and jetted
You gotta give us three card credit
Even though at times he can be hard headed
Yeah, the main thing CREAM by all means
And harebrained schemes
The lord's performance was flawless
He rocked with a crown and
A Bobby Brown cordless
The broad he was with was gorgeous
The only flaw he saw was she
Cause a nigga more stress
Not trying to diss her
But I used to know this sister that
Could put a whole fist in her
Hell, I made it, Momma
Grammy for the world's most celebrated rhymer
Dead the drama, scama
Four Gs of pizzy from Bahama
V, the lead brown man
And never count your chickens
Before you read SoundScan
What about Mom and Pops?
They might as well cooperate and
Wait till the bomb drop get more cabbage
Often time he wonder how they get so savage
V not your average
Often time he wonder how they got so savage
Writer(s): Daniel Thompson, Matthew McDonald
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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