Felt - Gangster Ass Anthony lyrics
[Felt - Gangster Ass Anthony lyrics]
And maybe you've never felt the
Things that I've felt
Word, r-r-r-r-r-r-round, round
You can't fuck with the Felt that flow
All the shit that you talking
Don't help you grow mad face
Can't wait to catch a man made elbow
You see me say 'hello'
When I leave say 'hell no!'
I'm not an asshole, I'm a perfectionist
Travel the globe to have sex with pessimists
My pimp, my doctor and my exorcist
All suggested that we come here
To wreck your shit
It's the treacherous, two plus Ant
If we can't do it, who the fuck can?
They claim king, go and slave to the ringtone
I smell pussy in the bacon
That you bring home
The fist-fucking dysfunction at this function
Is enough to justify shutting
Down your production
Get off the mic, go straighten out ya life
'Fore one of these mc's who
Puts it on your wife
Your girlfriend got her panties off
Once again one gnawed that nasty shit that
I done to her friend
So once again it's on motherfucker
And you won't do shit, you a bitch so fuck ya
I didn't like myself this morning
When I woke up
So keep talking shit like I woke loc up
I'm from Pico-Cochran we don't stop
When the police come
Then the heat go poppin'
Now we stopping, we go in the house
You can get jail time for
Just tryin' to show out
I'm trying to roll out, no doubt
Come and take your ho out popping that junk
Young punk what you know about
Felt 2 me and Slug coming through
When we serving these suckers like
'may I help you?'
Supersize when we ride on these busters
Murs two times with the L motherfucker
Man who the hell are
You? Try'na barge through
This is my episode and it don't co-star you
So shut your fucking mouth
If you don't know what you talking 'bout
Got on your cell phone, call her, tell him
Now you running my name through the mud again
Who I fuck ain't none of your bussines
What I lick or suck man, mind your bitchness
And that's bitchness, not goodness
You ain't proffesional punk
You're a pimp's assistant
You ride shotgun, I try to whip fool
Pussy don't drive this car, bitch dick do
And if I hit you it's a knockout
You strolled in but I bet you won't walk out
0-0-7-3-7-3-5-9-6-3
That's the code if you wanna fuck with me
You want a hit
Give me a dollar plus a beer and some head
Yo Ant turn up the snare
Till my eardrums turn red
This is for my people waking
Up in burning beds
And this is for my people waking
Up to earn the rent
I didn't come start no messes
I paid at the entrance
I wasn't on the guestlist
Had a few beverage then left
Because the rappers
Hookers and extras were unimpressive
30 something
Getting closer to the turkey stuffing
Dirty husband, victim of a mercy snuffing
Birdy bugging on the bottom line
But, I'm buzzing off the wine
So everything is fine
Put your hands in the air like
You're happy to have hands
I'mma jump up and down like
I'm happy to have fans
Let's all stay away from the pistols aim
Onto bigger things, peace to Ricky James
Things that I've felt
Word, r-r-r-r-r-r-round, round
You can't fuck with the Felt that flow
All the shit that you talking
Don't help you grow mad face
Can't wait to catch a man made elbow
You see me say 'hello'
When I leave say 'hell no!'
I'm not an asshole, I'm a perfectionist
Travel the globe to have sex with pessimists
My pimp, my doctor and my exorcist
All suggested that we come here
To wreck your shit
It's the treacherous, two plus Ant
If we can't do it, who the fuck can?
They claim king, go and slave to the ringtone
I smell pussy in the bacon
That you bring home
The fist-fucking dysfunction at this function
Is enough to justify shutting
Down your production
Get off the mic, go straighten out ya life
'Fore one of these mc's who
Puts it on your wife
Your girlfriend got her panties off
Once again one gnawed that nasty shit that
I done to her friend
So once again it's on motherfucker
And you won't do shit, you a bitch so fuck ya
I didn't like myself this morning
When I woke up
So keep talking shit like I woke loc up
I'm from Pico-Cochran we don't stop
When the police come
Then the heat go poppin'
Now we stopping, we go in the house
You can get jail time for
Just tryin' to show out
I'm trying to roll out, no doubt
Come and take your ho out popping that junk
Young punk what you know about
Felt 2 me and Slug coming through
When we serving these suckers like
'may I help you?'
Supersize when we ride on these busters
Murs two times with the L motherfucker
Man who the hell are
You? Try'na barge through
This is my episode and it don't co-star you
So shut your fucking mouth
If you don't know what you talking 'bout
Got on your cell phone, call her, tell him
Now you running my name through the mud again
Who I fuck ain't none of your bussines
What I lick or suck man, mind your bitchness
And that's bitchness, not goodness
You ain't proffesional punk
You're a pimp's assistant
You ride shotgun, I try to whip fool
Pussy don't drive this car, bitch dick do
And if I hit you it's a knockout
You strolled in but I bet you won't walk out
0-0-7-3-7-3-5-9-6-3
That's the code if you wanna fuck with me
You want a hit
Give me a dollar plus a beer and some head
Yo Ant turn up the snare
Till my eardrums turn red
This is for my people waking
Up in burning beds
And this is for my people waking
Up to earn the rent
I didn't come start no messes
I paid at the entrance
I wasn't on the guestlist
Had a few beverage then left
Because the rappers
Hookers and extras were unimpressive
30 something
Getting closer to the turkey stuffing
Dirty husband, victim of a mercy snuffing
Birdy bugging on the bottom line
But, I'm buzzing off the wine
So everything is fine
Put your hands in the air like
You're happy to have hands
I'mma jump up and down like
I'm happy to have fans
Let's all stay away from the pistols aim
Onto bigger things, peace to Ricky James