Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gangsta Vocabulary, artist - DJ Pooh.
Date of issue: 03.03.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Gangsta Vocabulary |
(Cause I’m a gangster, and you’re not |
You’re a sucker, and I rock |
Wind it up) --] Just-Ice |
Fresh out my khaki fatigues |
All you B.G.'s, you little leagues |
??? |
run deep down in my genetic code, my DNA, frequent |
Travellin, goin in and out, a juvenile delinquent |
Meat-colored so you know I got a heart |
Automatically, but I made it far |
In the game, fame, fortune, get an abortion |
You niggas want beef, I feed it to you raw in tiny, small portions |
The lyrical composition has been composed by and written |
Spitten, created for the part of use only if it’s hard-hittin |
West Coast section comin through droppin bombs from all directions |
Primary candidate assassinated at the '96 elections |
I told you before, the war, settle the score |
With heavy metal, the rebel |
Takin off like the Space Shuttle |
Makin MC’s smash on the gas pedal |
Maintain, hold it down, claim the victory over the golden crown |
Crowd around and history explains the names |
Of those that fell off the sound |
Overload the circummode, malfunction in the mic’s membrane |
Radioactivity cause electricity in the cloud to make it rain |
And have you wet, dripping, flipping, slipping |
In the West slopes, Zoo Tribe representing |
Flipping through my dictionary |
This is what we label as Gangsta |
(Vo-Vo-)Vocabulary (3x) |
I prefer to take trips, circle the atmosphere and make chips |
Then sit back, gangbang on you niggas with major clips |
Championships mostly, put Hennessy to my lips costly |
As we announce the new grand prize winners |
Zoo Tribe finna take the trophy |
Wreck shit give me migrane, stop, pause, I need Tylenol, Codeine |
Extra-strength kill the pain quick ??? |
light it all in a flame |
Let it burn, let that be a lesson learned, turn |
Back toward the ghetto |
Had to blast past the last level to get respect earned |
I received my diploma for bein no joke, no baloner |
Just to let you know when you walk upon a professional microphoner |
Rap creature, the Zoo keepers execute the beats featured |
Transmittin signals through your stereo, thumpin through your speakers |
I have to force the toys, not the boys |
Makin all that irritatin noise |
Your forbidden styles ain’t allowed |
Drop the mic, nigga, watch out |
Tell them suckers they gotta bail, no entourage personel |
Goes beyond this point, funky joint, toxic, chemical smells |
Modern-day technology cuts like biology |
Retire you and your co-workers, nothin personal, just company policy |
Trace you like when the feds be lookin for ya |
Cause groups to catch paranoia |
You can hear a 100 footsteps mobbin, that’s the Zoo Tribe warriors |
Shoot ya with a rhyme from the past and sendin it to the future |
When I wreck to play Rock Steady, you can barely beat the computer |
Circle like the drive-through, pull up your automobile and park |
Excuse me, ma’am |
Would you like to purchase some fresh produce we call the bomb? |
Sick shiznit, fertilize the beat, get it pregnant |
But that’s another episode of another whole entirely different segment |
I’m zooin, crocodiles bite my styles chewin |
Their style is played out, old, rusty, dusty, ancient, ruined |
(Cause I’m a gangster and you’re not) |
Stompin for eternal with my nigga |
The Mister Deadly Threat |
And y’all know who I am |
The Original Gangsta Deee |
And that’s how we doin it |
From '97 to eternity |