Lyrics Season of Da' Vick - Cappadonna

Season of Da' Vick

Aiyo, Tim and 'em, yeah Tim from Down South
Came to see what ya’ll niggas, was talkin' about
So yo, stop all the ego trippin'
Tim put the clip inside the automatic, four-fifth it
The analog rapper start riftin'
Tim maneuvered up closer like Scott Pippen
Look at the analog rappers eyes, water start drippin'
Two cherry head niggas on the side bitchin'
Three chicks walked across the street switchin'
You heard the crank of a car key in the ignition
Don' came around the block with the deep dish in
This kid ran right in front of my whip, I stop dippin'
Runnin' fast like in a flick, he start slippin'
I ducked down slowly cuz I heard shorts rippin' (bong bong)
Big Tim and 'em from Down South was flippin'
Yo, yo, what the fuck is goin' on?
Season of Da' Vick, season of Da' Vick…
The streets is still watching…
I’m a off the meat rack nigga, seat back nigga
You know my dog, too, he a heat pack nigga
Heat clap nigga, Wu-Tang Clan get the street back nigga
We came that liquor
Weed, digi and cars we just that particular
Put down ya darts it the extracurricular
Poppy Wardrobe King, I’m thinkin' bout stickin' ya
Wherever ya ho be at, I’mma stick my dick in her
Bust ya guns off if you love how I’m gettin' ya
Bump this shit in ya chromed out vehicular
Me and my force, we gettin' nothin' but redicular
Fuck Beans, none of ya’ll niggas can get with us
Yo, I smoke weed, hit broads and like brains
Like guns, like M-1's and nice change
When you see me, respect my jeans, respect my name
Lounge Lo, respect the Lo, respect the bang
See me in the street with the heat, respect my pain
Park Hill cats in the back, respect my gang
And I was brought up to, respect my elders
Respect Miss Martha and respect Miss Felder
A little kid, Mr. Big, respect the gig
Respect my moms and respect my kids
Cuz if you don’t, then I got to disrespect ya crib
And have me doin' hect', come and tech ya wig
Now when I touchdown and bust down that dutch to smoke
'Cross the street in the two-seat with platinum spokes
Bandana on my wrists, but I ain’t claimin' no set
Got mad sets to lay without goin' for broke
I bust the heat, travel on the bust when I creep
Cop that yae shit and come down, I’m back on the street
Feelin' the vibe, fuckin' with Lounge, I’ll kill for five
And if you’se a bad boy, I’m killin' ya pride
Two in the five, push like eight in ya side
Stuff ya body in the truck and take ya ass for a ride, nigga
Yo, yo, fuck is goin' on?
Season of Da' Vick, season of Da' Vick…
Season of Da' Vick, season of Da' Vick…
Yeah, muthafucka…