Goodie Bag
Lyrics
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots don't drip or bleed
'Cause', you know me, givin' me left hand dap
P-funk be ridin' shot gun escort your window broke out son
A cool breeze got my lips chap, mornin' slap some
Soul in my bread basket gap contain "x" marks the spot
Twain, o.c. the cut layin'
A stew of empty gas in my tank
A buck thirty lookin' ugly think, but it ain't gonna stop no show
Ol' burd puttin a buzz in you ear
"It's gonna snow" or maybe perhaps sleet
Rap up the beat outside barely made it to your wake
Lookin' like Mr. fisher, dickie down no suit, no tie
Niggas ain't gonna be able to just get by no mo'
You leavin' the hotel 254
Today was good to me, I went to the Goodwill
With the ten dollar bill, got that London Fog out the back paid the man
Me and Khujo and T-Boo, three jack lumbers
On the loose, cut your ass Lo like Cee
Be under the water, half these figures around me be hollering Newt
Now what the fuck has this politician did for you
Complain, complain but Mr. Clampett ain't gon' change
Just rib your ass up just to gut your pockets out
I heard Bill put two G's up for some folks
That they found in they house beat up and I don't discuss
That color scheme that they fall on
Cause the scheme that they fall on don't match with my tone
See, I wonder will I walk the streets in 1995
And not have to make bond from 254, uh
Will somebody please turn the lights on 166
I can't see where the fuck I'm going
I can't do shit but get mad
I can't keep get Billie and his uncle out my fucking Goodie Bag
Without your shank you can't thank
Without your niggas you up the creek, stank with a ass fool of ore
Taking what I say for what it's worth, it don't matter
Cause how I feel might be triggered from thoughts I had in the past
Now I struggle to reach the sky why try so hard
If all I'mma get is spit on cause life at the bottom ain't hitting on shit
But some of these folks is gettin rich
I know about mines, unwind, can't take at times going through
The same drama that got me here in this state of mind
Red-hot in the summer time
First of all, I stand a little more than five feet tall
But we can still brawl nigga, I ain't scared at all
I guess you niggas don't know or can't see
That it ain't even wise stepping to me incorrectly
But yet still when nigga's feel they can deal
I will split your ass up for real, cause we the maniacs
With the chunky goodie sac's, so I don't carry an ax
But I still swing low with the lumber jax
Tracks are being made by Organo-I-Z-E
Why we cooling in the shade
Ain't getting paid for chilling, illing, willing
To do what I got to do to come thru your speaker
Cee-Lo, he will never come weaker
Uniquer than a lot of MC's out today
Because I'm more than careful about what I say
When I pick up a microphone it's on
Them better leave me alone, I'm in my zone
Prone to snap if you offer me a chance
Like it when them chunky hoes can dance, I'll enhance
The microphone when it's in my grip, I do not slip
I can't forget my nigga's Jo, T-Mo, and Gipp
Ha-ha-ha, well Great Scott, is he a thief?
It seems like he has a mouth full of gold teeth
I smile, because your eyes can't take the glare
But Cee-Lo, him don't care, I cut off all my hair
And everybody stop and stare when we come in the place
And I can get on the mic with no time to waste
Get right up in your face, kick the flavor you taste
And when I'm on the microphone, it's a damn disgrace
How you don't comprehend what I'm saying to you
And I'm the C, the double E from the Goodie Mo Crew
I'm coming thru, I'm coming true, ooh, I can't even stop
It's Cee-Lo B, I'm down with that nigga pop, pop, pop
And my nigga Mike L, and Bert P
And my nigga Pretty Ken, you know he down with me
We from Atlanta, G-A, that is where we stay
I'm digging all in the Goodie Bag each and every day
Ooh shit!
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots don't drip or bleed
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots don't drip or bleed
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots don't drip or bleed
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots don't drip or bleed
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots don't drip or bleed
Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots don't drip or bleed
Writer(s): CAMERON F. GIPP, PATRICK L. BROWN, RAYMON AMEER MURRAY, RICO RENARD WADE, ROBERT TERRANCE BARNETT, THOMAS DECARLO BURTON, WILLIE EDWARD KNIGHTON
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Exploration Group LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
The Meaning of Goodie Bag
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