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Orange Pineapple Juice

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  • Текст, перевод и аккорды “Orange Pineapple Juice”

  • Hand me a little bit of umm, orange pineapple juice Ima 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 ps and No i.d., be gettin his ps and The late show, they get they ps and Professanots, they get they ps and Peep the maneuver, how bout the heim-lich I rhyme sick and you can get the duck, coon Im the shit, youre shit out of luck, tough Im 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 caint near a nig datll say whoomp, there it is Im like a mom on section 8, over-bearing kids Shit they be like, "com-mon!" thats my muhfucka true Youse a hamburger, ima fudrucker Askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you cant cut the mustard So wheres the beef, jerky? Im 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 Dont just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-im-a-hood takin niggaz Under On the tundra, cause "theyre plain, theyre plain" (fantasy island) Im on a plateau that is fat so Its just a fan-tasy, for the fans to see How I land, Im grand like a finale Im 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 feet youll get defeated Like kunta kinte, Im kin to, align crew My great, great, grandpap done been through So much its in my hemoglobin to be a ill nigga So I figure like a father... that ima turn this mutha out But common you aint hittin in new york I dont know what you thought hops, but chief I got tall props Some cats think Im six feet Im so deep Some stunts be thinkin Im 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 me true statues had to move they neck to this Didnt you, didnt you... and it, and it, and it And it dont stop, bust it "gotta crew ya better tell em" --> keith murray

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