歌曲 | Goonies |
歌手 | JR Writer |
专辑 | History in the Making |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Brito, Jones, Mohammed, Stokes | |
It's the Dips, we can't fall off we are sick | |
And keep ridin till the wheels fall off of this bitch | |
Salute, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
If you get money like ain't shit funny | |
And quick to tell a bitch she ain't getting shit from me | |
Holla back, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
[J.R. Talks] | |
Ok, Writer, (DipSet) Who ready? | |
[Verse 1] | |
Listen, This is natural, we're not compatible | |
A hustler not a rapper dude, don't make me have to clap a few | |
Wrap ya dude, Blat ya through | |
Nigga, fuck a stash box, I got a box in the stash for you | |
You aint a Goonie, yous a Looney Tooney | |
I will use this Uzi to remove ya kufi | |
Troops salute me, dude ya fruity | |
Who's a groupie, and lucky that my shoes are Gucci (why) | |
Cause I stomp creeps, I'm beyond beats | |
Big war guns, check out my arm reach | |
I'll get ya moms leaked (where) stretch out in Palm Beach | |
Iffy till I put you underground then its concrete | |
You stepping up there them hecklers'll flare | |
Peter Rowe leave ya soul in a breathe full of air | |
No body better this year (why) | |
I'm in the zone, and it's like you goin bald, cause you'll never get here/hair | |
[Hook] | |
[Jim Jones Talks] | |
Wooo (Jones) Wooo Wooo Wooo Wooo (Capo) (One-Eyed Willy) | |
[Verse 2 Jim Jones] | |
One-Eyed Willy, head of the Goonie-Goo-Goos (Capo) | |
I'll put paper on ya head just like a su-su | |
Blowin haze in the air out the moon roof | |
While I'm racing, switchin gears in the new coupe | |
So its nothing to 10-90 | |
Peter Rowe you hop in the Benz do 90 | |
I'll cop a new bed buck 90 (ballin) | |
I'm on the block getting bent's where you find me | |
I'm probably spittin out punka seeds | |
40's off Autobahn tell black dump the weed (we gotta get high) | |
It's 600 for my Dungarees | |
I'm on the corner getting blunted with a bunch of G's (Eastside) | |
So ya life's but a bleep away | |
Well I party at night where the Heat play (down in Miami) | |
Until the cops sub do me (fuck it) | |
I'm claimin DipSet ByrdGang we the Goonies (we the Goonies) | |
[Hook] | |
[Hell Rell Talks] | |
Ok, Ruger Rell DipSet, (I got us Writer) I got us, Yo | |
[Verse 3 Hell Rell] | |
I'm the shit Mr. Doodoo, I'll holla wooo wooo | |
Hundred niggaz hop out hoodied up like boom boom | |
I got Goons on the payroll shorty | |
And I don't tough shit, they move the yayo for me (they move that shit) | |
Money machines count the pesos for me | |
Shit on my neck, that's Range Rove money | |
My jewelry starting to add up to cars my brother | |
Magnum on one wrist, Charger on the other | |
When I die my house gonna be a tourist attraction | |
You serious that's the same chair Hell Rell sat in (you serious) | |
You lyin, that's the same toilet Hell Rell crapped in (na you lyin) | |
Mink carpets and he got it from rappin, ruger double action | |
You wanna learn about some cain nigga talk to me | |
You wanna know who own the city cruise New York wit me (DipSet) | |
I bring the grittiest out (yeah) | |
And if Rell in the building all the Goonies in the city come out (yeah) | |
[Hook] |
zuo qu : Brito, Jones, Mohammed, Stokes | |
It' s the Dips, we can' t fall off we are sick | |
And keep ridin till the wheels fall off of this bitch | |
Salute, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
If you get money like ain' t shit funny | |
And quick to tell a bitch she ain' t getting shit from me | |
Holla back, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
J. R. Talks | |
Ok, Writer, DipSet Who ready? | |
Verse 1 | |
Listen, This is natural, we' re not compatible | |
A hustler not a rapper dude, don' t make me have to clap a few | |
Wrap ya dude, Blat ya through | |
Nigga, fuck a stash box, I got a box in the stash for you | |
You aint a Goonie, yous a Looney Tooney | |
I will use this Uzi to remove ya kufi | |
Troops salute me, dude ya fruity | |
Who' s a groupie, and lucky that my shoes are Gucci why | |
Cause I stomp creeps, I' m beyond beats | |
Big war guns, check out my arm reach | |
I' ll get ya moms leaked where stretch out in Palm Beach | |
Iffy till I put you underground then its concrete | |
You stepping up there them hecklers' ll flare | |
Peter Rowe leave ya soul in a breathe full of air | |
No body better this year why | |
I' m in the zone, and it' s like you goin bald, cause you' ll never get here hair | |
Hook | |
Jim Jones Talks | |
Wooo Jones Wooo Wooo Wooo Wooo Capo OneEyed Willy | |
Verse 2 Jim Jones | |
OneEyed Willy, head of the GoonieGooGoos Capo | |
I' ll put paper on ya head just like a susu | |
Blowin haze in the air out the moon roof | |
While I' m racing, switchin gears in the new coupe | |
So its nothing to 1090 | |
Peter Rowe you hop in the Benz do 90 | |
I' ll cop a new bed buck 90 ballin | |
I' m on the block getting bent' s where you find me | |
I' m probably spittin out punka seeds | |
40' s off Autobahn tell black dump the weed we gotta get high | |
It' s 600 for my Dungarees | |
I' m on the corner getting blunted with a bunch of G' s Eastside | |
So ya life' s but a bleep away | |
Well I party at night where the Heat play down in Miami | |
Until the cops sub do me fuck it | |
I' m claimin DipSet ByrdGang we the Goonies we the Goonies | |
Hook | |
Hell Rell Talks | |
Ok, Ruger Rell DipSet, I got us Writer I got us, Yo | |
Verse 3 Hell Rell | |
I' m the shit Mr. Doodoo, I' ll holla wooo wooo | |
Hundred niggaz hop out hoodied up like boom boom | |
I got Goons on the payroll shorty | |
And I don' t tough shit, they move the yayo for me they move that shit | |
Money machines count the pesos for me | |
Shit on my neck, that' s Range Rove money | |
My jewelry starting to add up to cars my brother | |
Magnum on one wrist, Charger on the other | |
When I die my house gonna be a tourist attraction | |
You serious that' s the same chair Hell Rell sat in you serious | |
You lyin, that' s the same toilet Hell Rell crapped in na you lyin | |
Mink carpets and he got it from rappin, ruger double action | |
You wanna learn about some cain nigga talk to me | |
You wanna know who own the city cruise New York wit me DipSet | |
I bring the grittiest out yeah | |
And if Rell in the building all the Goonies in the city come out yeah | |
Hook |
zuò qǔ : Brito, Jones, Mohammed, Stokes | |
It' s the Dips, we can' t fall off we are sick | |
And keep ridin till the wheels fall off of this bitch | |
Salute, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
If you get money like ain' t shit funny | |
And quick to tell a bitch she ain' t getting shit from me | |
Holla back, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
J. R. Talks | |
Ok, Writer, DipSet Who ready? | |
Verse 1 | |
Listen, This is natural, we' re not compatible | |
A hustler not a rapper dude, don' t make me have to clap a few | |
Wrap ya dude, Blat ya through | |
Nigga, fuck a stash box, I got a box in the stash for you | |
You aint a Goonie, yous a Looney Tooney | |
I will use this Uzi to remove ya kufi | |
Troops salute me, dude ya fruity | |
Who' s a groupie, and lucky that my shoes are Gucci why | |
Cause I stomp creeps, I' m beyond beats | |
Big war guns, check out my arm reach | |
I' ll get ya moms leaked where stretch out in Palm Beach | |
Iffy till I put you underground then its concrete | |
You stepping up there them hecklers' ll flare | |
Peter Rowe leave ya soul in a breathe full of air | |
No body better this year why | |
I' m in the zone, and it' s like you goin bald, cause you' ll never get here hair | |
Hook | |
Jim Jones Talks | |
Wooo Jones Wooo Wooo Wooo Wooo Capo OneEyed Willy | |
Verse 2 Jim Jones | |
OneEyed Willy, head of the GoonieGooGoos Capo | |
I' ll put paper on ya head just like a susu | |
Blowin haze in the air out the moon roof | |
While I' m racing, switchin gears in the new coupe | |
So its nothing to 1090 | |
Peter Rowe you hop in the Benz do 90 | |
I' ll cop a new bed buck 90 ballin | |
I' m on the block getting bent' s where you find me | |
I' m probably spittin out punka seeds | |
40' s off Autobahn tell black dump the weed we gotta get high | |
It' s 600 for my Dungarees | |
I' m on the corner getting blunted with a bunch of G' s Eastside | |
So ya life' s but a bleep away | |
Well I party at night where the Heat play down in Miami | |
Until the cops sub do me fuck it | |
I' m claimin DipSet ByrdGang we the Goonies we the Goonies | |
Hook | |
Hell Rell Talks | |
Ok, Ruger Rell DipSet, I got us Writer I got us, Yo | |
Verse 3 Hell Rell | |
I' m the shit Mr. Doodoo, I' ll holla wooo wooo | |
Hundred niggaz hop out hoodied up like boom boom | |
I got Goons on the payroll shorty | |
And I don' t tough shit, they move the yayo for me they move that shit | |
Money machines count the pesos for me | |
Shit on my neck, that' s Range Rove money | |
My jewelry starting to add up to cars my brother | |
Magnum on one wrist, Charger on the other | |
When I die my house gonna be a tourist attraction | |
You serious that' s the same chair Hell Rell sat in you serious | |
You lyin, that' s the same toilet Hell Rell crapped in na you lyin | |
Mink carpets and he got it from rappin, ruger double action | |
You wanna learn about some cain nigga talk to me | |
You wanna know who own the city cruise New York wit me DipSet | |
I bring the grittiest out yeah | |
And if Rell in the building all the Goonies in the city come out yeah | |
Hook |