Tytuł: The sauce

• Wykonawca: De La Soul
• Wyświetleń: 197

  
   Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
  Hold that, hold that, hold that
  Yo all that, all that tryin'
  Y'all, I told y'all about tryin'
  Tryin' is later on man
  Can we try something for the ladies
  Can we try something for the ladies
  Can we do that De La
  Let's get that goin' on man
  Told y'all about those messages and shit man
  We get to that later man, know what I mean
  Let's just do something for the ladies man
  Let's get a chorus goin' on or something
  Let's pop a chorus off, ya know what I mean
  Let's do that right now, let's get that goin' on
  Let's try that out
  
  I see you real niggas do fake things sometimes
  One of them is grabbin' on his mic to rhymes
  So let us demonstrate the right way ya need to place
  Yo, it's De La up in ya face
  Better yet ya whole scene, here to pull in the green
  With Philly Black
  
  Just layin' back, raisin' my stacks
  Cause how they want it I give it to em' rock or the raw
  Yo it really don't matter son, some hot shit for y'all
  To go cop at the store, I spit, kick at ya jaw
  Leave you on the floor on all fours, you slaw
  
  We burn fast in black flag lands
  Bringin' herds and caravans
  And heat rock rythms, you blink one, two times
  In between I do mines
  Showboat refs, I put y'all niggas on deck
  
  Yeah son y'all faggots are soft
  I been through, carried the torch
  Recognized and done married a dwarf
  So in-laws pay a writer's fee
  My stizzy sets a wiz bitch's eye in me
  Pissy in a rizzy
  Indian wife I flip em' behind reachin' for sobriety
  Blew north, never find me
  Reside in this state of mind
  Keep my temple developmental
  Projects, front-line essential
  Reminded of concubines and evil that men do
  Cut off Ginsu, carry a brand new
  Vandle issues, brandin' issues
  Grabbin' tissues, like you didn't know you had it in you
  
  I live it up y'all, givin' you what y'all
  Need and can't call, carry the ball
  Like a spit-kicker should and ya wish ya could
  Hold it down like the digital who stitched the hood
  Better yet the whole globe, light it up like a strobe
  While you froze panicin'
  Went from man to maniquin
  We them peaceful rap stars
  That can still jab ya in ya face
  Leave ya shit redder than Mars
  
  The sauce and shit, of course we it
  The flossy shit
  Groundin' beef like Maxwell House
  Go ask the house
  We representatives
  Go call ya Senators
  Change laws in rap, renovate ya landscape
  The man takes for sixteen
  And pull a paragraph up out the tango
  Hangin' like vango
  Water broke flows to c-sec
  You read xecs
  Miscarried the rap, abortin' ya whole fort