Andre Nickatina - All Star Chuck Taylors lyrics

[Andre Nickatina - All Star Chuck Taylors lyrics]

Goody gumdrops

One thing I despise is these virgin suicides
Shere Khan is something that the wind cries
The way I collect is like a bomb threat
Meanin' if you don't have my dough
I'm a blow fa sho'

You better have heat when you
Hang with this villian
Meaning that it's cold when I'm chillin
Catch the fillin'
Slipped in on a banana peelin'
I seen them dead on the floor with
The blood's skeeted to the ceiling
I was like yo how that happen
Chuck Taylors down gotta keep on rapping
The one bullet
The right place at the right time
Can turn a hell of a wave into a flat line

My style don't pump no blood
It pump weed and gasoline, Nicky Nickitine
Man ectasy can twist yo spleen
Tell that to the freak in them jeans
Know what I mean

It's kind of ironic
Make a phone call for the chronic
And let my tigers hold the gin and tonic
Man, I curse so much it's blasphemy
But, I do what the rap gods ask of me

Half heart, half hustle
Have heart if you don't have muscle bite
A punk ear in a tussle
No love but I'm passionate
Blow weed in the face of the baddest chick
Get spin like a CD, I try not to get sleepy
On the grind when it's creepy
Street gods wanna teach me
Pocahantes makin' money for me
Bustin' in the teepee

My All Star Chuck Taylors
Stay laced like the mayor
Street ball court player
Rapid fire rhyme sayer
You'll be like "Nicky man, no fair"
Real proper

I disappear like Jimmy Hoffa
Reappear on Easter
Pants in the heavy start to increase her
T shirts with the vestes feature
Miesha check it it's the god of Khan
Chuck Taylor down like the Ramadan

Catch a feelin'
Slipped in on a banana peelin'
You got a scheme, homie, what you dealin'
Man the bad lieutenant
With the blunt wrapped dope in it
It's like Popeye with his spinach
Run around like you playing tennis
And you still ain't finished

International keep the party
Crackin' like pistachios
The freaks got it poppin' like a fashion show
Make a move with me birdy baby grab the dough
Like a linebacker
I got a gift like a blind jacker

Put a hole in your six packer
The south paw with the lock jaw
In the kitchen with the rock raw
You remind me of cocaine and doo doo stains

Man, it's the shitty dope dealer
Dirty worm catapilla
Weed collide like the sun and the moon
And I'm still trippin off that room
With the blood on the ceiling catch a fillin

My Chuck Taylors got me creepin'
And rap dealin'
Come through and leave you stunned
And in a shock and leave my heart on the
Block like a lost Glock

In the bushes or woods man
You do what you could
With the little you got, are you cold or hot
Put it down with the plot, and got knocked
And went to jail naked in ya shoes and socks

Leave it up to ya woman man to move ya rocks
And the freak turned the spot into a hot box
Chuck Taylors All Stars and all stars
Make my way to the bar and there you are
Catch a feelin'

Hey sister, give me some of that cheese

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