專輯:Solid Gold Hits
歌曲:So What'cha Want
Yo plug me in just like
I was Eddie Harris
You eatin' crazy cheeze
like you'd think
I'm from Paris
You know I get fly
you think I get high
Ask a little something
I'm gonna take you for a ride
So tell me: who are
you dissin'?
Maybe I'm missin' the
reason that you're
Smilin' or wide
and so listen
In my head I just wanna
take 'em down
'magination set loose and
I'm gonna shake 'em down
Let if flow like a mudslide
'cause when I get on
I'm like the fire
that glides
I got depth of perception
in my text yall
I got props I can't mention
'cause it'd vex y'all
So whatcha whatcha
whatcha want
I get so funny with with
the money that ya flaunt
I said where'd you get
your information from huh?
You think that you can
front when revelation comes
Yeah you can't
front on that
l
Well they call me Mike
D the ever lovin' man
I'm like spooney G well
I'm the metropolitician
The weather is mellow in
my Chevy Impala
but the sweat is gettin'
wetter in that thing
around your collar
Like a dream I'm flowing
without no stoppin'
Sweeter than a cherry pie
with Ready Whip toppin'
Hey Mike yeah Mike
kickin' it wall to wall
Well I'll be callin' out
to people like a casting call
Well it's whack when
you're jacked in the
back of a ride
With your know with your
flow when you're out
gettin' by
Believe me what you see
is what you get
And you see me I'm comin'
up like it's a bet
Well I think I'm losin'
my mind this time
This time I'm losin' my
mind that's right I said
I think I'm losin' my
mind this time this time
I'm losin' my mind
Yeah you can't
front on that
But little do you know
about somethin' I don't
talk about
I'm tired of drivin' the
same streets that
I walk about
But in the mean time
I'm wise to people's minds
I've got eyes in the back
of my head so I realize
Well I'm Jack the Splack
I'm here to whack y'all
I want you off the wall
if you're playin' the wall
I said whatcha whatcha
whatcha want
I said whatcha
whatcha whatcha want
You suckers write me
checks and then they bounce
So I reach into my pocket
for the fresh amount
See I'm the mob's gleaner
this is the Cleaner
I'm the illest mutha fucka
from here to Gardena
Now I'm as cool as a
cucumber in a bowl
a hot sauce
You got the rhyme and
reason but you got
no court
Well if you're hot to trot
you think you're slicker
than grease
I got news for you cootch
you'll be suckin'
like a leech
Yeah you can't
front on that
So whatcha whatcha
whatcha want