Outkast

Текст песни Two Dope Boyz

Two Dope Boyz видео клип

Outkast
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Композиторы:
  • Curtis Mayfield
  • Gregory Fowler
  • Clarence Newton Burke
  • Rico Wade
  • Patrick Brown
  • Raymon Murray
  • Noize Organized
  • Antwan Patton
  • Benja
Жанры:
  • Hip-Hop
  • Rock
Теги:
  • rap
  • techno
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Outkast - Текст песни Two Dope Boyz

From the bottom of my lungs a nigga be blowin, spittin his game

Comin up on ya from the South, the A-T-Liens aint changed

Cooler than most players claim to be

A nigga that's from the A-Town see

The home of the Bankhead Bounce, Campbellton Road and other city streets

Enough of the verality, fallacy, butter we speak not fiction

Speakin of pullin yo' girl lookin at Jheri curls you bitches

Everytime I ryhme for y'all, I'm lookin to prove a point

kickin a freestyle every now and then

but mostly off the joint

See I smoke good cuz see it go good wit them flows, why

the nigga the B-I-G like Tony Rich nobody knows why

but me and my folks, cuz yall niggas jokes like the joker

I'm sick of these wack ass rappers like I'm tired of hoes in chokers

Who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion

This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin

But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs

askin where we come from...South Post Lodge

[Chorus:]

Its Just Two Dope Boyz In A Cadillac [2X]

[Verse Two: Andre, Big Boi]

This ol sucka MC stepped up to me

Challenged Andre to a battle and I stood there patiently

As he spit and stumbled over cliches, so called freestylin

Whole purpose just to make me feel low, I guess you whylin

I say look boi, I ain't for that fuck shit; so fuck this

Let me explain on this child style so you don't miss

I grew up to myself not round no park bench

just a nigga bustin flows off in apartments
Outkast - Two Dope Boyz - http://ru.motolyrics.com/outkast/two-dope-boyz-lyrics.html
Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion

This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin

But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs

askin where we come from...South Post slums

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Big Boi, Andre]

It goes chromes to the Fleetwoods, Coups to the Villes

Hittin Girbauds and off these flows we havin the playa chill

In this atmosphere this ain't no practice here we cuttin the fool now

I'm doin ya at the house and throwin you out because I'm through now

Don't you love the way we clamin Bankhead, stankhead

Lookin around the SWATS for the herb that's never tainted

Fainted when you heard the bourbon servin on the block

And all you bitin indivuals need to check yourselfs and stop

Yeah tight like nuts and bolts, sluts and hoes that get evicted

I'm dealin wit Queens in my castle aint worth to risk it

Now tricks be lookin at me like I'm they way up out the pro-jects

Can't put you on my payroll, and no I ain't got no Rolex

or no diamond at the exit with a sign sayin "We'll rap for food"

My face is bawled up cuz I ain't in a happy mood

While my partner got the squeegee and the windex

Cuz somewhere in my life I done went wrong jus like a syntax

Error, bring the terror to your dome like P.E.

Prone to finish this out cuz this be a free-style

Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion

this side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin

but in the middle we stay calm

we just drop......

Outkast Two Dope Boyz (In A Cadillac)

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