Informazioni sulla canzone In questa pagina puoi trovare il testo della canzone Saigon Velour, artista - Ghostface Killah.
Data di rilascio: 05.10.2023
Limiti di età: 18+
Linguaggio delle canzoni: inglese
Saigon Velour |
Okay, yeah, yo yo |
Son I walk down the block like it’s '76 |
Pimp robe, fur hat just to match my kicks |
And my chain’s like 80 pounds of frozen ice |
I got four bitches with me, no need to look twice |
Throw rice at my feet, rose petals, Malaysian salt |
I smoked two Cuban cigars and a Newport |
An ounce of the blueberry, big bottle of Titos |
Count the plaques on the wall, like I sang for The Beatles |
Went from label to label, changed my name to Clark Gabel |
Tony Starkaroni probably fucked your aunt Mabel |
In the stash house owned by El Patrón |
Big friends in high places, always flyin' outta zones |
Big banks in Sweden, vaults in Morocco |
But my all time favorite is a Columbian taco |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
Well I’m black as an onyx, (?) and demonic |
Little (?) go in your mouth, Orthodontics |
Globally iconic |
Dr. Dre, The Chronic |
My new company, Wu-Electronics |
Scientifcally smart, technology art |
(?) Jackson and Tony Stark’s undeniable thoughts |
Avoidin' unmarks |
FBI, DEA, all government sharks |
All around the nation they see my demonstration |
Four-Four revolver, no shell casings |
Send you to a coroner, a murderer’s formula |
My feet up for weeks, Miami Beach, Florida |
Sign of success, trust the process |
Women with they feet in my sand, topless |
Darkman’s a monster, yeah, Lochness |
Nothin' in the mother fuckin' word could stop this |
I’m a ski-mask professional always after that decimal |
Shoot you in your head, if you live, you’ll be a vegetable |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
Original, a lot of style, boom-pow |
Blowin' on the pound, puh-puh-puh-puh-pow |
Way up in the cloud |
Misbehave the flav', now let me show you how |
To maintain and sustain as I crush game |
Smooth as silk with a little bit of Kush, mane |
Plush game, lavish livin' |
Bust on the pigs with bad intentions |
Smoke dope, go for broke, young loc |
The homie said 9−1-1 is a joke (Fuck tha police!) |
And I believe that so I protect and serve |
Every nigga on the block, that’s my word |
Cadillac drivin', stackin', providin' |
Listen to the sounds of the sirens |
I’m a O.G. nigga on a mission |
Beans don’t burn in the kitchen if you twist it while dippin' it |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
Guard at the gate, live in a mansion |
Rap career longer than an extension |
Still hold it in court |
Got my wine in the World Report |
Or should I say the duPont REGISTRY? |
If it ain’t now, it will be |
Grew up on purple, went from humble |
Be bumpin' a bubble truck full of rumble |
In a major way, E-40 cookin' out the double |
Pot in the kitchen at all times |
I’m a boss, still write my own rhymes |
Been there, done it, been factor, trapper 'fore rapper |
Been 100 from day one, quick thinker, fast reactor |
Been a fixture, I don’t think it’s many left |
Been the shit like your baby mama breath |
Been in it for a while, been a threat |
Custom houses and cars is how I’m livin' |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy |
If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me |
Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key |
But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |