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Gutta Gorillaz

Rasaq

Letra

    [Chamillionaire]
    Bad is how I kick nigga no way, that little ass pager is so gay
    My 2-way way too big to be a 2-way, it's a 4-way
    Ask me who the hardest rapper nigga, you know who I'm gon say
    I'ma say ay-ay-ay, like JT Money and Sole
    Koopa don't pay for the four play, you tell her how much that you gon pay
    You must be kin to oranthol, cause you a Simpson like you OJ
    OJ throwback no way, the OJ throwback I throw away
    Too many niggas dress alike, I ain't trying to be you for the whole day
    Look like a 2 Fast 2 Furious clip, on a tow away
    It look like I'm riding backwards, rims spinning the wrong way
    See that Fake-ob I mean Jacob on your arm, nigga no way
    That ain't authentic, we know what it is but I won't say
    Wanna know if my pockets fat, and how much do my do' weigh
    A question like that, will get a chick kicked through the do' way
    I don't give no do' away, get out she gon obey
    She gon take the coat from a Lil' Jon song and say, (okaaay)
    Gutta gorilla, mayn I ain't no Holly
    Wood industry ass nigga no, they don't call me
    On the phone like they wanna bone, cause they know prolly
    The chick I'm with gotta have a upgrade, and a J-Lo body
    My princess cuts why the slugs, look kinda like lightening bugs
    Rims double the size of dubs, they standing as high as us
    Koopa don't keep a strap scratch that, cause he prolly does
    Keep a heater with extra slugs, in a clip in his Ivy dubs
    For a minute, Nappy Roots had a whole movement by being po'
    Through that movement I was moving units, they must of been moving slow
    True I'm on the radio, but I prove I'm streeter than Greg
    Flip the microphone off the stand, and you'll get beat in the head

    (*talking*)
    Yeah, my solo album Controversy Sells
    Drops in November, on the same day as Paul Wall's
    "People's Champ" solo album, Color Changin' Click-clack

    [Rasaq]
    Aw suckering-suckatash, who's that coming up on that cash
    Screens go z-z, when I push a button up on the dash
    But a weapon up on my ass, do dirt like what's under grass
    Two shirts might have something stashed, you jerk if something flash
    You move if something blast, you hurt and on your ass
    You cursing when I pass, I'm swerving in a slab
    It's Rasaq on the block, in a drop with no top
    With a bottle with no top, and a model with no top
    And I'm going to the spot, where niggas is losing
    Put the clip up to you spit it, and let it rip through your FUBU
    Dog I know cats that'll break you, in a kitten caboodle's
    In a range for a funeral, for the niggas who knew you
    I'm in the hood in the hallway, where there's pissing and doo-doo
    And the fiends creeping at night, and come up twitching up to you
    I recycle what I see in the hood, and deliver it to you
    With niggas is coo-coo, hang with a few loose screws
    Or when I'm flipping in hoo-doo's, sitting on two-two's
    Listening to new Screw, jewelry is glistening and too blue
    And I'm chilling with your new boo, I ain't forced her in the whip
    Got her talking so much, I told her to put a cork in it
    Like Sammy Sosa's bat, leave your mammy with a swollen back
    These tracks on a broke mattress, a couple of bones is cracked
    And I'm gone no coming back, no hugging no rubbing backs
    I'm thugging and loving stacks, nigga how you loving that

    I bring it to you
    I bring it to you
    I bring it to you


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