Tytuł: Orange pineapple juice

• Wykonawca: Common
• Wyświetleń: 290

Hand me a little bit of umm, orange pineapple juice
   I'ma sip on it, check it out
  
   I got a rhyme, you got a rhyme
   But my rhyme is better than yours
   (repeat 2X)
  
   U-A-C, they get they P's and
   No I.D., be gettin his P's and
   The Late Show, they get they P's and
   ProfessaNots, they get they P's and
  
   Peep the maneuver, how bout the Heim-lich
   I rhyme sick and you can get the duck, coon
   I'm the shit, you're shit out of luck, tough
   I'm the act to follow, housing kids like Ronald
   Mac like Donald Goines, flows I change like coins
   Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng, choyoyoyoyyyyyng
   I draw a crowd like blood with the 'pint of' technique
   and everybody there be like, "YEAH!"
   Cause cain't near a nig dat'll say 'Whoomp, There It Is'
   I'm like a mom on section 8, over-bearing kids
   shit they be like, "Com-mon!" That's my muhfucka true
   Youse a hamburger, I'ma Fudrucker
   askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you can't cut the mustard
   So where's the beef, jerky?
   I'm as Worthy as James, not that good with names
   but I do remember your face from someplace this is one taste
   of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' many mo' flavors
   Don't just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood takin niggaz under
   on the tundra, cause "they're plain, they're plain" (Fantasy Island)
   I'm on a plateau that is fat so
   It's just a fan-tasy, for the fans to see
   how I land, I'm grand like a finale
   I'm goin back to Cali (why?) cause Cali got bitches check it
   Aiyyo Dart this is a sickness
  
   Dee-da-da-da-doo-doo, dee-da-da, ah-eh-da-da
   Dee-da-da-da-DOO-doo, dee-da-da, dee-da-da
   South Side, rock on and
   The West Side, we gotta rock on and
   Hey yo Chicago, we gotta rock on and
   The East coast, you gotta rock on and
   The West coast, you gotta rock on and
   ah down South, you gotta rock on and
   Check it... "Now you can go!"
  
   Mister Pussy Emcee, just get on gone
   Get on gone, you pussy MC!
   Steppin to me, with them dirty feets you'll get defeated
   like Kunta Kinte, I'm kin to the Lynn crew
   My great, great, grandpap done been through
   so much it's in my hemoglobin to be a ill nigga
   So I figure like a father... that I'ma Turn This Mutha Out
   But Common you ain't hittin in New York
   I don't know what you thought hops, but chief I got tall props
   Some cats think I'm six feet I'm so deep
   Some stunts be thinkin I'm six-fo', my shit be hittin like switches
   Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag
   I ask the bitches, "Why your titties saggin?"
   Put your nipple to the bottle I bust rhymes like breastses
   I can get down, d-d-d-down like pessimist
   "Ring the Alarm", I got Charm like a neck-a-lace
   Tell the truth, tell the truth, y'all had to move your neck to this
   Didn't you, didn't you... and it, and it, and it
   and it don't stop, bust it