Whips And Kicks
(专辑: Blood On Chef's Apron - 2009)
[Intro: Raekwon] Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah nigga That's all yall niggas talk about all fucking day man The
whips man, Fucking cars and all that shit Fucking vehicles and shit man We been swing'n and all these niggas need to cut it out man Cause yall niggas is babies man [Raekwon] Remember the
Four Runner's, Corsica's, Back with the
gold cunnions Maxima yep, Stances, Audis with sick vances Datsun's, Corolla's, All of the
oldies yo Riding through the
city, Jetta's and Volvo's Crestas' was for the
extra terrestrial Alpha Romeo's, Yeah the
Wrangler's and Lexus' Pinto's, Geo's, Suzuki's was the
truth yo Making them up town trips, Cops'll shoot you though Benz's, Five-sixties', Gallant's and the
fly Rivies Rivera's look grisly huh You know we come through, Something mean under the
sun roof I
blow a
blunt, Poof, Shorty singing I'm Koof Yeah the
Sterling, The
Grand Am's The
Lincoln with the
crab amps Made me mad, In the
Blazer we all crampted Six deep, Four bags of cheeba, A
crisp beat All I
need to show you now is a
sick Jeep [AZ] Eighty-four mopeds, Blue and white Pro-Keds Just started puff'n, Got instructions for an old head Co-ved, Wally rock'n niggas tryna grow dreads Back in the
bush, Church Ave. on the
juxs Shell toes, Black and white, No laces in em Pat U-edition had his whole face in em Straight leg denims, Taylor made shit Kareem Laker colors, Low cut suede tip Stay dipped, Stan Smith lay sick Two-toned colors, Put the
taps on the
rubber Puma rock'n nigga, Fuck a
womber I
was bigger See a
bitch in seconds an assumed that I
could rip her None hipper, Copped kicks with the
zippers The
Fila's arrived, It was Levi's and high In V
Tracks I
was simply the
mack Everything I
snatched had to match with the
hat Reebok rocker, Whole crew couldn't knock us Fuck who, Only thing to do was just glock us Valley Competitions and the
Jordan's hit stores I'm sitting reminiscing, T. La Rock it's yours Now fast forward time nigga still on the
grind Haters everywhere, Nigga still gotta shine Gucci's all kinds, Switch em up for the
weather Louis' in lime, Only do it for the
pleasure Come fresher, From the
tech on the
dresser Fifth in the
waist, Still crys'd and I'm laced [Outro: AZ] Niggas, And I
do it for real you dig You know, I
still rock the
Gor-Tex and Tim's when necessary Other then that, Bogary low cuts the
minimum Or I
do the
Italian Classic Olympic cut Gucci's Three quarters, You bum ass niggas