| We rollin' back to back
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| Different color Cadillacin'
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| Pray the Lord, they don’t put me in the paddy wagon
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| If they do it be a long trip
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| Boss shit, Boldy hold the four fifth
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| Pull it, leave his body where the Pistons play
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| Rock a mask like Richard Hamilton
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| And hit the J
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| But in Queens they call me Mookie
|
| Boobie put the tookie where she poopy
|
| If you see me then salute me, bitch!
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| Cuzzy quick to burn up the turnpike
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| And skrrt on them dirtbikes
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| A lot of outta towners got murdered the first night
|
| For try’na serve on the work site
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| Ten bricks and a bitch
|
| Came jumped on the first bike
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| I’m talkin' perched white
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| Third base/3rd Bass, searchlight/Serchlite
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| Got caught with another gun on my third strike
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| I’m from Detroit so I call cot and run dice
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| And I was crowned King Concreature from birth right
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| Blocks
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| We take em over with little resistance
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| Vivid descriptions of urban living conditions
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| Fiend balet, back block recitals
|
| Park the phantom on the block
|
| Ghetto American Idol
|
| On a whim and a prayer
|
| I swear on a stack of bibles
|
| For this shit right here
|
| My dear handed me the title
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| To the Rivier, lit the glass pipe with the lighter
|
| Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop
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| I’m suited up in black attire, bitch
|
| Time for some
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| Time for some action
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| Pre-cocked, one in the hole
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| Blastin'
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| Them nines, double action
|
| It’s time for some action
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| Street life, lights camera action
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| Grind till you shine
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| On your brights from your hazards
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| Flash 'em, lights camera action
|
| Time for some
|
| Time for some action
|
| We got it all under control, traction
|
| Fuck around throw some fox on my bitch
|
| But still cop a sandwich from my ahks up the block
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| No socks, in some concept Balances
|
| Split pea soup coupe dipped, no challengers
|
| This is grown man rap, you in the kiddie pool
|
| You still pissin' in that little urinal
|
| We burn the tree with a tinge of purple
|
| Flip work like a ninja turtle
|
| You ain’t fuckin' wit' my inner circle
|
| Dreams of five girls laid up on the white bed
|
| My off white dick stretched across some dyke’s head
|
| 5'8″, the city on my back
|
| I’m jumpin' out the gym
|
| And dunkin' it on Shaq
|
| Plug with the connect
|
| I hit him up on consignment
|
| If you spineless then squirm with the rest
|
| You can run and play hide and seek
|
| Until I pop up with that ninety
|
| Now that’s what I call the return of the mac |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Traction , by - BOLDY JAMES. Song from the album My 1st Chemistry Set, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп