L’Orange, Blu - Need You lyrics
[L’Orange, Blu - Need You lyrics]
Yeah, BL, LO a song that has taken
It's audiences by storm
Which may be explained by it's theme
Which is both poignant and different
Full body soul
Yeah Chuck Norris karate boots
When my warm heart turns cold
I need a sake shoot
Niggas is Nazi troops, rude boy, 90s roots
Made it to 2012 just to see Romney lose
My whole posse hold shotties
Like we know Gotti
Had the whole lobby poppin' like a dope party
Filled the list full of nobodies
Niggas need remote control cars
I just sold my old Audi
Five thousand island sauce with the boss
A tall can for the long day, all days off
We get it always
Call up the squad, the guacamole, the guap
The Guatemalan models model for God
Pull out a genie bottle
Fill it with promises for your seeds tomorrow
And leave your sorrows at the back door
It's time to quarrel
The slam dance, let the boys be boys
Grab cans, mic stands, Technic 1200's
Writin' jams
Like jelly, peanut butter and wolf
They not ready
Drop heavy like a crane on your foot
Spit out a levy
This is deep, yo, it's deeper than Atlantis
On the coast of Los Angeles you might
Get shot by a camera canon
Bruce Leroy, you niggas is true decoys
Blu the last B-Boy
Breakin' faces for makin' that cheap noise
Bring them toys out, boy scout
That roach out
Make boys bounce like a whole ounce
You suck poison out snakes
You suck that much I don't rap about gats
But, you gon' make them raps bust
Gats tucked, act up, you sad duck
My shit swine 'em, Don Jon
You just a bad mutt bad luck
Stack mad bucks 'till I'm a fat fuck
Slap fucks out of a pore 'fore my gat bust
Raps, wrap it up right quick
Let it drive stick
Heard she get around like clockwork
My time tick
Tick-tick-tickin' all the time, no
Stoppin' on a dime, ho you out of your mind
And I got mind on my money
Time is money and I'm right on time
Got a wallet big as Chris Wallace
Why you watchin' mine? Wash your mouth out
I'm 'bout that puttin' gold in my mouth
Know the south 'bout it 'bout it
Boy don't doubt it
You be swimmin' with the trout out
In Vegas tryna get famous
I've been tryna tell them boys about
It but they be aimin', cannon
Why should I bother? Well
Look at the alternative
It's audiences by storm
Which may be explained by it's theme
Which is both poignant and different
Full body soul
Yeah Chuck Norris karate boots
When my warm heart turns cold
I need a sake shoot
Niggas is Nazi troops, rude boy, 90s roots
Made it to 2012 just to see Romney lose
My whole posse hold shotties
Like we know Gotti
Had the whole lobby poppin' like a dope party
Filled the list full of nobodies
Niggas need remote control cars
I just sold my old Audi
Five thousand island sauce with the boss
A tall can for the long day, all days off
We get it always
Call up the squad, the guacamole, the guap
The Guatemalan models model for God
Pull out a genie bottle
Fill it with promises for your seeds tomorrow
And leave your sorrows at the back door
It's time to quarrel
The slam dance, let the boys be boys
Grab cans, mic stands, Technic 1200's
Writin' jams
Like jelly, peanut butter and wolf
They not ready
Drop heavy like a crane on your foot
Spit out a levy
This is deep, yo, it's deeper than Atlantis
On the coast of Los Angeles you might
Get shot by a camera canon
Bruce Leroy, you niggas is true decoys
Blu the last B-Boy
Breakin' faces for makin' that cheap noise
Bring them toys out, boy scout
That roach out
Make boys bounce like a whole ounce
You suck poison out snakes
You suck that much I don't rap about gats
But, you gon' make them raps bust
Gats tucked, act up, you sad duck
My shit swine 'em, Don Jon
You just a bad mutt bad luck
Stack mad bucks 'till I'm a fat fuck
Slap fucks out of a pore 'fore my gat bust
Raps, wrap it up right quick
Let it drive stick
Heard she get around like clockwork
My time tick
Tick-tick-tickin' all the time, no
Stoppin' on a dime, ho you out of your mind
And I got mind on my money
Time is money and I'm right on time
Got a wallet big as Chris Wallace
Why you watchin' mine? Wash your mouth out
I'm 'bout that puttin' gold in my mouth
Know the south 'bout it 'bout it
Boy don't doubt it
You be swimmin' with the trout out
In Vegas tryna get famous
I've been tryna tell them boys about
It but they be aimin', cannon
Why should I bother? Well
Look at the alternative