Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song DWYCK (Feat. Nice and Smooth), artist - Gang Starr. Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
DWYCK (Feat. Nice and Smooth) |
| Aww yeah, it’s another Gang Starr sure shot, uh! |
| Featuring the one and only, handl’it handl’it, Roy, Nice & Smooth |
| Hey, Gang Starr has gots to be the sure shot |
| Nice & Smooth has gots to be the sure shot |
| Gang Starr has gots to be the sure shot |
| Nice & Smooth has gots to be the sure shot |
| Greg Nice! |
| Greg N-I-C-E |
| Dame un beso, ah oui oui |
| Rock for a fee, not for free |
| Maybe I’ll do it for charity |
| Now my employer or my employee |
| Is making Greg N-I-C-E very M-A-D |
| Don’t ever ever think of jerking me |
| I work too hard for my royalty |
| Put lead in your ass and drink a cup of tea |
| Peace to Red Alert and Kid Capri |
| Ooohh la la, ah oui oui |
| I say Muhammad Ali, you say Classius Clay |
| I say butter, you say Parkay |
| It’s alright if you wanna make a sway |
| I’m away uptown, took the deuce to the tre |
| I originate, they duplicate |
| I praise the Lord and keep the faith |
| It’s alright, keep biting at the bait |
| '92, uh! |
| One year later |
| Peace out, Premier, take me out with the fader |
| I chant 'eeny, meeny, miny, moe' |
| I wreck the mic like a pimp pimps hoes |
| Here’s how it goes: I am a genius, I mean this |
| I shape this, you’ll tape this, I’m kinda fiendish |
| You wish that you could come into my neighborhood |
| Meaning my mental state, still I’m 5-foot-8 |
| Crazy as I wanna be, ‘cause I make it orderly |
| You could say I’m sorta the boss so get lost |
| The brother who will make you change opinions |
| Dominions, I’m in them when it’s time to kick shit from |
| The heart, plus I get a piece of the action |
| Feeling satisfaction from the street crowd reaction |
| Chumps pull guns when they feel afraid |
| Too late, when they dip in the kick, they get sprayed |
| Lemonade was a popular drink and it still is |
| I get more props and stunts than Bruce Willis |
| A poet like Langston Hughes |
| And can’t lose when I cruise out on the expressway |
| Leaving the bodega I say «suave» |
| Premier’s got more beats than barns got hay |
| Clips are inserted into my gun |
| So I can take the money, never have to run |
| Yo Keithy E, I left my Phillie at home, do you have another? |
| I wanna get blunted, my brother |
| Now, may I make a mark then make a spark |
| Over this phat track — or should I say dope beat? |
| Subtract, delete |
| All of the wick wack that wanna be abstract |
| But they lack the new knack that’s coming from way way back |
| Hey yo, Premier, please pass that buddha sack |
| You heard we quit? |
| No way, bullshit! |
| I told you before we come back with more hits |
| I provide bright flavor, so you can sketch me |
| Do me a favor, don’t try to catch me |
| Slightly ahead of the game, I’m not a lame |
| Ask him, he’ll tell you the same he knows my name |
| Smooth, I drop jewels like paraphernalia |
| I’m infallible, not into failure |
| Like a rhinoceros, my speed is prosperous |
| And pure knowledge expands from my esophagus |
| I write in the night to bring truth to the light |
| My dialogue is my own, ‘cause Smooth B will never bite |
| After the tour quits, I come back with more hits |
| After the tour quits, I come back with more hits |
| After the tour quits, I come back with more hits |