Goodie Mob Goodie Bag Lyrics

 Cause in da SWAT's red hots don't drip or bleed  
  
 Cuz'  you know me  givin' me left hand dap  
 P funk be ridin' shot gun escort your window broke out son  
 A cool breeze got my lips chap  mornin' slap some  
 Soul in my bread basket gap contain "X" marks the spot  
 twain  O.C. the cut layin'  
 a stew of empty gas in my tank  
 A buck thirty lookin' ugly   think  but it ain't gonna stop no show  
 Ol' burd puttin a buzz in you ear  
 "It's gonna snow" or maybe perhaps sleet  
 Rap up the beat outside barely made it to your wake  
 Lookin' like Mr. Fisher, dickie down no suit, no tie  
 Niggaz ain't gonna be able to just get by no mo'  
 You leavin' the hotel - 254  
  
 Today was good to me  
 I went to the Goodwill with the ten dollar bill  
 Got that London Fog out tha back paid tha man  
 Me and Khujo and T-Boo, three jack lumbers on tha loose  
 Cut your ass Lo like Cee, be under tha water  
 Half these figures around me be hollering Newt  
 Now what the fuck has this politician did for you  
 Complain, complain but Mr. Clampett ain't gon' change  
 Just ribb your ass up just to gut your pockets out  
 I heard Bill put two G's up for some folks  
 That they found in they house beat up  
 And I don't discuss that color scheme that they fall on  
 Cuz tha scheme that they fall on don't match wit my tone  
 See, I wonder will I walk tha streets in 1995  
 And not have to make bond from 254  
 Uh, will somebody please turn the lights on 166  
 I can't see where tha fuck I'm going, I can't do shit but get mad  
 I can't keep get Billie and his uncle out my fuckin' Goodie Bag...  
  
 Without your shank you can't thank  
 Without your niggas you up the creek  
 Stank with a ass fool of ore takin' what I say for what it's worth  
 It don't matter cuz how I feel might be triggered  
 From thoughts I had in the past  
 Now I struggle to reach the sky why try so hard  
 If all I'ma get is spit on  
 Cause life at the bottom ain't hittin on shit  
 But some of these folks is gettin rich  
 I know about mines, unwind, can't take at times going through  
 The same drama that got me here in this state of mind...  
 Red-hot in the summer time  
  
 First of all, I stand a little more than five feet tall  
 But we can still brawl nigga, I ain't scared at all  
 I guess you niggas don't know or can't see  
 That it ain't even wise steppin' to me incorrectly  
 But yet still when nigga's feel they can deal  
 I will split yo' ass up for real  
 Cause we the maniacs with the chunky Goodie sac's  
 So I don't carry an ax, but I still swing low with the lumber jax trax  
 Are being made by Organo-i-z-e  
 Why we coolin' in the shade ain't gettin paid  
 For chillin, illin' willin' to do what I got to do  
 To come thru your speaker  
 Cee-Lo, he will never come weaker  
 Uniquer than a lot of emcees out today  
 Because I'm more than careful about what I say  
 When I pick up a microphone it's on  
 Them better leave me alone, I'm in my zone  
 Prone to snap if you offer me a chance  
 Like it when them chunky hoes can dance  
 I'll enhance the microphone when it's in my grip, I do not slip  
 I can't forget my nigga's Jo, T-Mo, and Gipp  
 Ha, ha, ha, well Great Scott, is he a thief?  
 It seems like he has a mouth fulla gold teeth  
 I smile because your eyes can't take the glare  
 But Cee-Lo, him don't care, I cut off all my hair  
 And everybody stop and stare when we come in the place  
 And I can get on the mic wit no time to waste  
 Get right up in yo' face, kick the flavor you taste  
 And when I'm on the microphone it's a damn disgrace  
 How you don't comprehend what I'm saying to you  
 And I'm the C, the double E from the Goodie Mo Crew  
 I'm coming thru, I'm comin' true, ooh I can't even stop  
 It's Cee-Lo B, I'm down wit that nigga pop, pop, pop and my nigga Mike L  
 And Bert P and my nigga Pretty Ken, you know he down wit me  
 We from Atlanta, G-A, that is where we stay  
 I'm diggin all in the Goodie Bag each 'n ever day  
 Ooooh shit 



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