Tytuł: Must be Bobby

• Wykonawca: RZA
• Wyświetleń: 351

  
   Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby..
  Bo-bby..
  Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby..
  Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby..
  
  [RZA]
  Psssh. Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo! {*Bobby Digital sound*}
  Yo.. Bobby
  Yo, yo, RZA Bobby
  Yo, yo, RZA Bobby
  B-Bobby, yo
  Hit the bodega for a 40 ounce son, Garcia Vega
  Two bags of chips, and one pack of Now & Laters
  Flame tucked down to my nuts, on my last buck
  Only thing keep a nigga calm is a good fuck
  Loose-leaf cigarettes be dipped in wet
  Chicken of the seas get trapped inside my net
  with their clothes off, son when the gun goes off
  I'm bound to play Napoleon, and blow a nose off -
  your Sphinx; your stumble rap style, your flow's off
  like Kunta, tryin to run with his chopped toes off
  Unchallenged sword I yield the storm rider
  Clip full of ruffled-tip fast-actin long fire
  Four hundred grain cartridge, with steel casin
  Those who can't draw the crowd is still tracin
  The mic is cast to the floor and shapeshifted
  Heavy as the hammer of Thor you can't lift it
  So tense, bitch there's no defense
  This four-four inch'll make you jump the fence
  Right eye squinted; I speak brok-len english
  Stumble off the cold four-oh of Olde English Wu brew
  Two-two inside the shoe
  No describin what this heat, in my jacket could do
  I teach, seeds to read, never reach for the weed indeed
  Bow down to the great Bob Digi Digi
  
  (Bo-bby..) Yo, it must be Bobby
  (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be Bobby
  (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be Bobby
  (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be..
  
  I rice soaked in coconut milk mixed with tofu
  Sit in the sun six hours then I charge up like Goku
  Dragonball Z; imagine you're raggin me
  That's like walkin through a Blood hood flaggin a C
  Not, tryin to tell you how much weight we carry
  It may get, every snake in the tri-state buried
  Plus, Feds had one add, sayin I gun traffed
  I sold twenty million records bitch; some laugh!
  Fresh shafts of morning dew on Nancy Drew
  Sherlock Holmes crime sleuth couldn't figure the Wu
  You loaf of bread head, keep a sober head
  One point five million years my overhead
  
  (Bo-bby..) Yo, yo, it must be Bobby
  (Bo-bby..) Yo, yo, it must be Bobby
  (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be Bobby
  (Bo-bby..) Yo, check, yo
  
  I keep MC's puzzled keep my dogs in the muzzle
  Ice cold forty ounce drink 'em down with one guzzle
  Son might spit a word at a bird, see if she chirp back
  Tall chocolate deluxe buttercup, off the meat rack
  A chickenhead scratch the yard for worms
  And roosters walk around with their heads in the perm
  I be spreadin knowledge keepin my third eye polished
  Never, chase for dollars to fulfill the black wallet
  You must be Bellevue son I walk with twelve jewels
  Afford anything this world could sell you
  Beats that the change the style'll rearrange ya
  BZA-Bobby! I'm strikin you like Beatlemania
  
  Yo, it must be Bobby
  Oh, no, it must be Bobby
  Yo, son, it must be Bobby
  BZA-buh, BZA-wha', BZA-Bobby
  (Bo-bby..) Fuckin up the mic is still my hobby
  (Bo-bby..) F-fuckin up the mic is still my hobby
  (Bo-bby..) Yo, yo, it must be.. doo doo!
  (Bo-bby..) Yeah yeah
  
  (Bo-bby..) - {*repeat to fade*}