Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Like This, artist - Chords. Date of issue: 31.12.2009
Song language: English
Like This |
| I used to be quick and mean, but that all changed |
| Thanks to the mickey d’s and the sticky green |
| Plus the nicotine but I still parlé |
| I had a tongue that moved faster than the left car lane |
| So when smacked by the glove I had to deliver |
| Show vigeur and prove that I rap for the love |
| Man I gotta hand it to me |
| I could rap about nuthin' at all and get the the whole damn planet movin' |
| Anything from chopped vegetables |
| To cops friskin' you att rock festivals |
| Embedded in flows tight like this |
| Stick out like cowboys in sci-fi flicks |
| The rhymes i spit always tasters choice (r) |
| Like sippin' Mai Tai drinks in a lazyboy |
| I just sit there… |
| To all the weedheads burnin' their last piece of hash |
| All the hustlers workin' the backstreets for cash |
| All the speakers that bump my shit |
| Do it 'cause they know it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |
| And when my crew is in the house it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |
| With Moes fingers on the bass and trebble |
| We raise the levels and chase the devil |
| Out of space you know the fire burn |
| Had to call up Max get that iron shirt |
| I rhyme with words so high that i fly to work |
| Just hit the studio and write a werse |
| Get in the booth flip it in overdrive |
| Grab the mic and kick it like Cobra Kai |
| Like Grover Wash did Mr. Magic man |
| I gotta serve’em with an instant classic |
| Sort of like soda pop when mixed with acid |
| Sweet and pschadelic for the ignorant masses |
| Man, there ain’t no stoppin' me |
| I blaze the broccoli laced with poppy seeds |
| Breathe in, exhale on top of beats |
| And make your whole repertoir sound obsolete… |
| To all the gamblers that love to throw dice |
| All the lowlife that still rock that old spice |
| All the speakers that bump my shit |
| Do it 'cause they know it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |
| And when my crew is in the house it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |
| I dip in the stash box the stickiest hasch blocks |
| Are from Afghanistan the sticks are from Bangkok |
| I told you before, I c-c-c-can't stop |
| This dawg gotta wiff of the sizzeling lamb chops |
| And you don’t wanna hear this hungry hound man |
| Runnin' around you with a stomach growlin' |
| Better keep it to the undergound and |
| Check me out when I come to town |
| To all the weedheads burnin' their last piece of hash |
| All the hustlers workin' the backstreets for cash |
| All the speakers that bump my shit |
| Do it 'cause they know it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |
| And when my crew is in the house it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |
| To all the gamblers that love to throw dice |
| All the lowlife that still rock that old spice |
| All the speakers that bump my shit |
| Do it 'cause they know it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |
| And when my crew is in the house it goes just like this |
| How do we do it in the south man?, just like this |