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Whutcha Want? - Nine.lrc
LRC Lyrics
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[00:00.00] 作词 : Daniel Keyes/Rob Lewis[00:01.00] 作曲 : Daniel Keyes/Rob Lewis[00:03.09][Verse 1][00:19.29]I gets banned if I do gets banned if I don't[00:22.05]So sometimes I will and sometimes I won't[00:25.08]Puff mad stick crack a forty down the back[00:27.03]Sit fat and relax and plan my attack[00:29.70]Not the one to test I possess mad finesse[00:31.98]My Buddha was blessed one bird in the nest[00:34.68]Chills with my peeps steady bouncing in Jeeps[00:36.96]On the New York streets hittin' urban concrete[00:39.42]I'm the man untestable, with the extra-[00:42.03]Terrestrial flow, Four Fifty Six Cee-Lo[00:44.91]Pop the top off the forty ounce bottle[00:47.04]I'm not the one to follow, I'm not the role model[00:49.59]Hollow tips in my clips money grip and my Glock[00:52.08]Only spits when I react to the bullshit[00:54.69]So give me room to breathe and get up off DEEZ[00:57.39]And save the confessions for JEESuz[00:59.52]Plus I don't need to hear no sorrow[01:01.86]Eff it, the sun will still come out tomorrow[01:04.38]Long as I'm breathing, needing, even like[01:06.81]Steven, achieving, gettin some cheese and[01:09.30]Representin' lovely, Boogie Down Bronx major[01:12.15]With the project flavor, I made ya[01:14.28]Daze ya, my behavior is mad ill if you front[01:17.19]You know what I want![01:18.09][Chorus][01:19.71](Whutcha want Nine?) Fat beats for my rhymes[01:22.26](So whutcha want Nine?) Mad clips for my nines[01:25.05](So whutcha want Nine?) An ill posse[01:26.40]And my name up in lights, N-I-N-E[01:28.29][Verse 2][01:29.10]I'mma let you know how I feel on the real, I pack[01:31.56]Steel, it's like a jungle, makes me wonder where my heel hits the[01:34.08]Bricks, skips the dog shit, completin' my cipher[01:36.42]Temper like Rowdy Roddy Piper, hyper like a[01:39.09]Viper, I'mma strike if I gotta[01:40.95]Goin' for the jugular stretch you like a copper stoppah[01:43.80]Stoppah, but you can't stop me[01:45.96]Just clock me, just watch me blow up the spot G[01:48.87]Came a long way from back in the day[01:51.00]We did it for no pay, just rhymin' hit the hay and[01:53.73]Sleep, wake up, write another rhyme[01:56.07]Hit the park after dark, drop the beat one time[01:58.83]That's when shit was real, no phonies no bologna[02:01.59]Just a homie, mics and wheels of steel[02:03.75]Backup from the roof, amp plugged in the street light[02:06.21]Everything right, jam over: street fight[02:08.76]Back to the lab I grab my pen and pad[02:10.89]Raw lyrics make a sore and a scab[02:13.05]Had no dinero, enough get fo' chicken wings and rice[02:16.32]A forty ounce a nickel bag to get nice[02:18.57]And now I might make a million, and still son[02:21.00]It makes the heart pump, you know what I want[02:23.16][Chorus][02:24.06](Whutcha want Nine?) Fat beats for my rhymes[02:26.49](So whutcha want Nine?) Mad clips for my nines[02:28.35](So whutcha want Nine?) An ill posse[02:30.72]And my name up in lights, N-I-N-E[02:32.40][Verse 3][02:47.82]Be like Elmer J. Fudd with the mansion and the yacht[02:50.73]Brand new Glock non-stop hip-hop[02:53.01]Remote control boombox lampin' on my dresser[02:55.62]The God ain't no lesser as the pressure comes to test ya[02:58.05]Hundred pound weight around the neck, daily[03:00.36]Nuff treasons, nuff reasons like Philip Bailey[03:03.09]Can't get enough of that funky stuff[03:05.19]Rhymin' astronomical, original, shit is phenomenal[03:08.01]Heat up the ghetto put the pedal to the metal[03:10.17]Speed like Racer treat you like a wack rhyme and erase ya[03:12.96]Right off the paper, roll a big fat spliff[03:15.15]Four-fifth on the hip, Heineken in the grip shit[03:17.88]I'm ready, get the keys for the Jeep, let's bounce[03:20.19]Cruise avenues, get some brews and sing the blues with the[03:23.07]Funkmaster Flex cassette in the deck[03:25.41]I'm in effect I move my neck while Son gets wreck[03:28.08]Oh what a feeling, I'm on the wheels of steel and[03:30.33]I snatch up some skins for some sexual healing[03:32.67]Erything's kosher copacetic, groovy hip-hop moves me[03:35.76]Soothes me, I'm letting off like an Uzi[03:38.16]But first steps a doozy and bruise me[03:40.14]Now I'm choosy before I start to freak it like a floozy[03:43.02]I wanna get big get paid true stunt[03:45.54]You know what I want![03:46.50][Chorus][03:48.06](Whutcha want Nine?) Fat beats for my rhymes[03:50.55](So whutcha want Nine?) Mad clips for my nines[03:53.40](So whutcha want Nine?) An ill posse[03:54.75]And my name up in lights, N-I-N-E
text lyrics
作词 : Daniel Keyes/Rob Lewis 作曲 : Daniel Keyes/Rob LewisI gets banned if I do gets banned if I don'tSo sometimes I will and sometimes I won'tPuff mad stick crack a forty down the backSit fat and relax and plan my attackNot the one to test I possess mad finesseMy Buddha was blessed one bird in the nestChills with my peeps steady bouncing in JeepsOn the New York streets hittin' urban concreteI'm the man untestable, with the extra-Terrestrial flow, Four Fifty Six Cee-LoPop the top off the forty ounce bottleI'm not the one to follow, I'm not the role modelHollow tips in my clips money grip and my GlockOnly spits when I react to the bullshitSo give me room to breathe and get up off DEEZAnd save the confessions for JEESuzPlus I don't need to hear no sorrowEff it, the sun will still come out tomorrowLong as I'm breathing, needing, even likeSteven, achieving, gettin some cheese andRepresentin' lovely, Boogie Down Bronx majorWith the project flavor, I made yaDaze ya, my behavior is mad ill if you frontYou know what I want!(Whutcha want Nine?) Fat beats for my rhymes(So whutcha want Nine?) Mad clips for my nines(So whutcha want Nine?) An ill posseAnd my name up in lights, N-I-N-EI'mma let you know how I feel on the real, I packSteel, it's like a jungle, makes me wonder where my heel hits theBricks, skips the dog shit, completin' my cipherTemper like Rowdy Roddy Piper, hyper like aViper, I'mma strike if I gottaGoin' for the jugular stretch you like a copper stoppahStoppah, but you can't stop meJust clock me, just watch me blow up the spot GCame a long way from back in the dayWe did it for no pay, just rhymin' hit the hay andSleep, wake up, write another rhymeHit the park after dark, drop the beat one timeThat's when shit was real, no phonies no bolognaJust a homie, mics and wheels of steelBackup from the roof, amp plugged in the street lightEverything right, jam over: street fightBack to the lab I grab my pen and padRaw lyrics make a sore and a scabHad no dinero, enough get fo' chicken wings and riceA forty ounce a nickel bag to get niceAnd now I might make a million, and still sonIt makes the heart pump, you know what I want(Whutcha want Nine?) Fat beats for my rhymes(So whutcha want Nine?) Mad clips for my nines(So whutcha want Nine?) An ill posseAnd my name up in lights, N-I-N-EBe like Elmer J. Fudd with the mansion and the yachtBrand new Glock non-stop hip-hopRemote control boombox lampin' on my dresserThe God ain't no lesser as the pressure comes to test yaHundred pound weight around the neck, dailyNuff treasons, nuff reasons like Philip BaileyCan't get enough of that funky stuffRhymin' astronomical, original, shit is phenomenalHeat up the ghetto put the pedal to the metalSpeed like Racer treat you like a wack rhyme and erase yaRight off the paper, roll a big fat spliffFour-fifth on the hip, Heineken in the grip shitI'm ready, get the keys for the Jeep, let's bounceCruise avenues, get some brews and sing the blues with theFunkmaster Flex cassette in the deckI'm in effect I move my neck while Son gets wreckOh what a feeling, I'm on the wheels of steel andI snatch up some skins for some sexual healingErything's kosher copacetic, groovy hip-hop moves meSoothes me, I'm letting off like an UziBut first steps a doozy and bruise meNow I'm choosy before I start to freak it like a floozyI wanna get big get paid true stuntYou know what I want!(Whutcha want Nine?) Fat beats for my rhymes(So whutcha want Nine?) Mad clips for my nines(So whutcha want Nine?) An ill posseAnd my name up in lights, N-I-N-E
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