You sober up punk I do it high I'm ridin' the wave in the shotgun that live Baby you turnin' me on And when you turnin' me off I think you better take some lessons yeah, from Diana Ross
I'm shippin' birds with no wings All over seas And other people cop em at the hottest degrees
I keep money for bail Because I never liked jail And I study A-plus student at Yale
They say Andre Nickatina ya emcee number seven Smokin' weed up in heaven Born on 3/11
Tigas and gods Liquor and bomb I look to my pad like the holy kerhan
I'm shippin' birds with no wings All over seas I put em where they never heard raps like these
I rhyme like calico cats And two loaded gats Now what mothafucka think he fuckin' with that?
I be the special shishcabob on the grill with all steaks Call me a Mack truck with no brakes Or better yet a chef that love to bake cakes And get into anybody in any other state
Grand wizard(?) baby, look at what I done We used to sex in ya basement now I'm number one With no desire I'm throwin' gasoline on the fire I don't like your record store if you're not a buyer
Spin cycle It's sumthin' like a wash and dry And I be speakin' to my P.O with a serious lie
You know the Matador The replican, the guillotine The money, the dope Homie, the triple beam
Melody's soft but is heavy as weights We got the snottiest freaks With the sexiest face
You better poka-bang-bang A chica-chica-chill A tumble down the hill Like Jack and Jill
We say spin around broke witch Bust a ballerina I pro blow when Mark with Marina
It's time Tiga I was bred to grind ‘N your zodiac sign N' up in the minds Man, the killa whale of hell Yell, strikin' down bail Wet you with the water Smack you with my tail
Shit, I'm shippin' birds over seas ...(?) The number one Pisces Shit, It's meTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
