Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pass The 40, artist - Black Sheep. Album song A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing, in the genre R&B
Date of issue: 31.12.1990
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Island Def Jam
Song language: English
Pass The 40 |
Nigga, come off. |
Check this out. |
Check this out |
Listen all this shit y’all talking ain’t got no frills |
We’ll pass the 40 around and we’ll see who’s got some skills, I mean |
If you got 'em you got 'em and if you don’t |
(I got skins. I got skins.) |
…you're over. |
So Mista Lawnge, listen, I give this brew to you |
I’m gonna pour some out for my man pee-wee. |
(Pee-Wee!) |
And do what you gotta do, all right black. |
Bust it |
I’m the sugar dick daddy |
Fuck what you think |
Pass the 40 right by me |
Cause you know I don’t drink |
I remain sober when I drop a hit |
But I put gum in my ass cause I like to pop shit |
When it comes to pullin' gums I might do it |
But put your guard up Black |
And Ima run right through it |
Don’t sleep on the size |
Thinkin' I’m easy to beat |
Cause I’ll be up in that ass like a bike seat |
And when it comes to boning I’m Mr. Erecticy |
Hoes come by the crib for a free hysterectomy |
I’ve got a dick that I brag about |
I put it in fast then I drag it out |
Girls, I’ll be the special friend see |
Cause your man suffers from pseudo-penis envy |
I do damage (oh, uhm) |
The Sugar Dick is guaranteed to make you cum |
Now I pass the 40 cause you heard from me |
So, go get a forklift Chi-Ali |
Well I’m too young for 40s, and too young for blunts |
The only thing I’m not too young for is the stunts |
The girlies, the ladies, I love them with a passion |
But back to the mic cause I’m always down for action |
Many M.C.'s fall to the dust |
Some will rust cause I bust and I crush |
You can’t touch |
I’m the child of the wild, the flavor of the Nile |
I gave you plenty of chances, still ya fuck with this style |
Now that you know, Chi-Ali can’t be tooken |
Pass the 40 cause my mother’s not looking |
Yo give me that, kid. |
You pah will put you in the mourge |
Listen to hot diggity dog |
Bibb bow wow wow wow wow |
Yipity yie yo, yipity yo yie yeah |
Diggity dog is rocking and |
Yes, I’m definitely here to stay |
Pass me 40. Pass me 40, pass it if you may |
Because my jimmy is hard and yes I have a ho to slay |
And when I’m funking the bitches they go huhhhhhh |
When I’m funkin' the bitches they go huhhhhhh |
Y’all drink the 40, I drink a Guinness Stout |
And when I see you home, I’m out |
Yo Baby Chris, pass me the keys to the car |
I’m runnin late for my menage-a-trois |
Pass it, tap it, and then crack it |
Take a small swig |
Or down it like a pig |
You’re too tippy to operate this rig |
I’m a mike, You suckers I strike in flight |
Here’s a DWI for drivin' drunk with the mic |
From Chi to Lawnge and all those in this fight |
Loosen your grip 'cause you’re holding it too tight |
It’ll take a body count, I know my body count is right |
Five drunk niggas from my left to my right |
And maybe a ho that I’m with tonight |
But it’s all right, yo! |
It’s all right |
So Dave my grip is getting weak |
Grab the 40 so I can hear you speak |
I live large, caviar and limos |
Spent most of my time refusing bullshit demos |
Can you understand, do you understand |
Well let me explain I’m the A and R man |
Dave Gossett. |
Yes I rock it |
I rip the mike and I stuff pockets |
Don’t believe me? |
Ask the Sheep, see |
They got the money, think it’s funny |
Always scooping all the honey |
Oops, I meant to say hoes |
Broke my own rhyme |
What’cha didn’t know, ut oh |
I see a stroblelite ho, I gotta go, I gotta go |
Yo Dres, it’s your turn |
Act like gonorrhea and burn baby burn |
Step into the booth |
And give em proof |
That Black Sheep don’t need jack to get loose |
And rip a roof, loosen a tooth |
You’re in my fuckin way so move |
And let a nigga get smooth |
Honies play me close cause my goods are on display |
So, I play em like vitamins and take a ho a day |
I pull em like a dentist |
MoId em like a teacher |
Knock em like a bowler |
Fleece em like a preacher |
Step, get 'em man, go to school, join a band |
It makes no difference whether |
Dres is that type of brother |
That will hit that ass forever |
Cause I’m clever, ever |
Never ever, have I lost my sight |
Or said might or went a boneless night |
Not talkin bout chicken |
But if she’s finger-lickin' |
I will let it be known |
Don’t bite the bone |
Microphones I like em cause they let me amplify |
So don’t reach for the sky, you know you can’t fly |
But still you reach up higher, a Black Sheep-type desire |
Then you look up at me cause I’m a frequent flyer |
So now you got beef chief |
Grief will be your claim |
I sport a full metal jacket |
Give your beef some lo mein |
Cause I’m swingin like a swinger |
Singing like a singer |
I’m lookin for your |
Or your ho so did you bring her |
Ah I’m just bullshittin |
Almost time for quittin |
There’s money to be made |
And booty to be hittin |
Look and you will see |
Dres that’s who I be |
A divine incline of mine is studio time |