Young Zee, Yah Yah, Lauryn Hill - Stay Gold lyrics

[Young Zee, Yah Yah, Lauryn Hill - Stay Gold lyrics]

Zee (one time) got down with Lauryn
Loooong agooooo (yeah muthafuckas)
Gold status is where, we will beeeee
(yeah, yeah)
Τhat's where you'll find me, sippin' Martini
(yeah yeah) my pockets swole stay gold

I'll go gold if I just stay true to Newark
Get high and dust clicks like embalmin' fluid
My shit's loud when I drop my sound
All the angels in the clouds
Like "Turn that shit down!"

These dimensions and extensions will
Secure my future pension
When I mention corporate lynchings like
The cowboys did to indians
The intentions, of the Devil
Is to cause me hypertension
So stay gold like Stevie Wonder
Don't blunder like OJ simpson

Yeah, Zee need to battle with the older guys
'Cause all you lil' niggas get pulverized
Yeah, I get ill on funky beats like Jalil
Yo posse gon wind up in Beth Israel
Bring yo' fleet you'll get stabbed and beat
And stomped out in the street
With my football cleats
Yeah, I make a snake talk
Bitch say who is it
When I climb up her walls just like
Number 4 Lizard what is this trash I hear?
Is it "Static", like Jeru, and Premier?
Your MC style is way too old
I unfold pure funk long as I stay gold

Zee (one time) got down with Lauryn
Loooong agooooo (yeah muthafuckas)
Gold status is where, we will beeeee
(yeah, yeah)
Τhat's where you'll find me, sippin' Martini
(yeah yeah) my pockets swole stay gold

I be doing 95 in horizons
Flyin', lightin' up thai while I'm drivin'
Your company like: "Who the fuck is Zee?"
'Cause I be So So Def like Jermaine Dupri

It's pure No Brain funk, so get your cam
Start recording
And watch How We Do This like Montell Jordan
(Watch how we dooo thiisssss)
I use freestyles when I
Be high on sabbaticals on old school rap
I keep trapped in time capsules
Outz motherfuckers
Servin' niggas like butlers rollin' dutches
Goin' stickin' in the Cutlass
My shit rocks word to Scott La Rock
I smoke opts and drink scotch and
Send my style through a paradox
I'm Outz, who ya?
NBC, Outsidaz, this rap's raw
Plus there's Moore than Mary Tyler

And all the sell out
Fake crews that tote pistols
I can diss you and I'm
Only buggin' like whistle
You sold your soul for a tootsie roll
Now you swole 'cause your LP
Didn't even go gold
I don't let it get next to me
I just hang out with my friends like Extra P
(yeah Roots, DU, and Ali)

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