Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Scottie , by - Andre Nickatina. Release date: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
Scottie |
| Scottie, scottie |
| Scottie, scottie |
| Put the phone on ya but it’s the booty call |
| And I’m comin' ta bust nuts on all ya’ll |
| And I’m out |
| Half a blunt hangin' out my mouth |
| Speedin' like a demon on 101 south |
| I smoke chewy like a muthafuckin' nut |
| Ya got a gram bag get the zags an' roll 'er up |
| It’s Andre Nickatina tiger comin' out the cuts |
| Maximum speed drivin' I don’t give a fuck |
| Garcia blunt fully hunt down the cat |
| These bitches on the street muthafucka were you at |
| Dippin' on swayze with my niggas from tha set |
| The blunt went out but we ain’t done yet |
| Get another one blaze |
| Bitch get paid |
| A welfare that check every 15 days |
| I remember highschool lowfuel and bushy |
| Cuttin' that muthafucka go gettin' pussy |
| Caught up in the madness |
| This freak was the baddest |
| I seen her baggy jeans and her ass was the fattest |
| Ooh it’s jenine |
| She licked my dick clean |
| Come right away she got a twomp sac of weed |
| Nigga I’m sippin |
| My potna’s got the tay' stay sippin' |
| Talkin about money, hoes, hustlin' and pimpin' |
| I’m over |
| Doja like this fine bitch |
| Shinin' like a car or my news stands smith |
| Cut the fade |
| Hoes get wet from the wave |
| Dancin' in a cage with ass for days |
| It’s like this |
| I didn’t know you smoke chewy bitch |
| Now bring the yale too so we can fire up a spliff |
| About six |
| My pager’s talkin' to me sayin' «shit |
| The battery’s low in this son of a bitch» |
| Yeah 15's pound like this |
| 15's screamin' out bitch |
| 15's bumpin' gangsta shit |
| Mind on a muthafuckin' grip |
| A nigga graped his coat when I heard them 15"s |
| With a new 9 in the waistline of them jeans when I them 15"s |
| Heard them 15's |
| Grab my weed to get keyed when I heard them 15's |
| Fresh out the house about to pop my p’s |
| My niggas done swoop me up about twelve fifteen |
| What’s the first thing to do but find that weed |
| In that sedan de ville cadilac with' the gangsta lean |
| I gots to pop me a not |
| Soon as we hit the spot |
| So I can hit the ho twice and see how much cash she got |
| Me and 'dre will hop out |
| When we hit the parking lot |
| And get to flossin' on them fools like I pooled up at the postop |
| Jumped out the car and we was feelin' like g’s |
| I was broke that day but lookin' like I slang keys |
| But these hoes will neva know |
| Cause them ones will have you fat |
| When you off in one of them clubs and dressing all in black |
| And it was cool I had juice to get in with a strap |
| In case I see one of them niggas from back in the days I done jact |
| In fact |
| My nigga shot done served that nigga a sac |
| And told me that he had 3 mo' niggas posted out back |
| Bring this on |
| Cause right by the back door is my cuzin tone |
| And mr. |
| blunt |
| Ready to give some nike reading lessons to a chump |
| We make them bleed |
| Then leave the seen |
| With them a.r. |
| 15's |
| A.r. |
| 15's |
| Man I don’t drink cappacino |
| I’m a picses not a leo |
| Can’t even strike to reno unless I tell my fuckin' p. |
| o |
| Drinkin pina colata brooms staring hard at the moon |
| On the eightteenth floor hopin' I can find my room |
| Five star |
| Adictive like liquor at the bar |
| I sell tapes nigga bring it on cash or master charge |
| I gets lower than a den when I’m strikin" on a mission |
| Lookin' for competition |
| Or maybe a couple bitches |
| My style is something deadly like a newport cigarette |
| I’m a street chemist bitch |
| A money hungry pit |
| Like daffey duck I gives a fuck |
| It’s mines it’s all mines |
| Catch a flight in hienz |
| Cause I’ll leave that ass behind |
| Come stick with me |
| I’ll bumble like a bee |
| Cause my boo |
| We was cool |
| Back in nine two |
| But check it |
| I hit the party and these niggas holdin weed |
| And I hold it in at my heart and don’t wanna leave |
| Yeah what I think not |
| Ya know we hate cops |
| Imagine if nigga bought |
| Every donut shop |
| In the city |
| Fuck it in the muthafuckin' world |
| Greesy like a curl |
| Priceless like a pearl |
| Strikin' like a lighter |
| Bitin' like a biter |
| Bitch did you recognize my whitewall tires? |
| Yeah man I recognize your whitewall tires, but we got to get this over with |
| You understand me. |
| I’m makein' moves I can’t be standing around it might have |
| Been a good day for you, but I’m a tell you it’ll never be right |
| I stepped outside and I was tweaking |
| So tipsy mentally geekin' |
| I seen my nephew he had just got plug |
| He gave me credit he hooked me up with a proper dubb |
| Here come my girl I hope she got a pipe |
| It might of been a good day for you, but for me it’ll never be right |
| I must have been geekin' and I stole my mama’s t. |
| v |
| Now my little brother and my nephew wanna see me |
| But I ain’t lookin' for them, I lookin' for a triple beam |
| And I’ll be back later on cause I heard you niggas got ice cream |
| Something fat never that soda |
| Fuckin with the mexicans ya’ll be havin' that peruvian yola |
| Strait butt naked a dobe fiends dream |
| Nextellin' ain’t no tellin' when I put it on a triple beam |
| I love that bitch if ya know what I mean |
| But I ain’t talkin' bout that skanless, I’m talkin bout that icecream |