| Okay, yeah, yo yo
|
| Son I walk down the block like it’s '76
|
| Pimp robe, fur hat just to match my kicks
|
| And my chain’s like 80 pounds of frozen ice
|
| I got four bitches with me, no need to look twice
|
| Throw rice at my feet, rose petals, Malaysian salt
|
| I smoked two Cuban cigars and a Newport
|
| An ounce of the blueberry, big bottle of Tito’s
|
| Count the plaques on the wall, like I sang for The Beatles
|
| Went from label to label, changed my name to Clark Gabel
|
| Tony Starkaroni probably fucked your aunt Mabel
|
| In the stash house owned by El Patrón
|
| Big friends in high places, always flyin' outta zones
|
| Big banks in Sweden, vaults in Morocco
|
| But my all time favorite is a Columbian taco
|
| If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy
|
| If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me
|
| Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key
|
| But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street
|
| If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy
|
| If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me
|
| Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key
|
| But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street
|
| Original, a lot of style, boom-pow
|
| Blowin' on the pound, puh-puh-puh-puh-pow
|
| Way up in the cloud
|
| Misbehave the flav', now let me show you how
|
| To maintain and sustain as I crush game
|
| Smooth as silk with a little bit of Kush, mane
|
| Plush game, lavish livin'
|
| Bust on the pigs with bad intentions
|
| Smoke dope, go for broke, young loc
|
| The homie said 9−1-1 is a joke (Fuck tha police!)
|
| And I believe that so I protect and serve
|
| Every nigga on the block, that’s my word
|
| Cadillac drivin', stackin', providin'
|
| Listen to the sounds of the sirens
|
| I’m a O.G. |
| nigga on a mission
|
| Beans don’t burn in the kitchen
|
| I’m twistin' while dippin' and crippin'
|
| If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy
|
| If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me
|
| Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key
|
| But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street
|
| If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy
|
| If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me
|
| Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key
|
| But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street
|
| Guard at the gate, live in a mansion
|
| Rap career longer than an extension
|
| Still hold it in court
|
| Got my wine in the World Report
|
| Or should I say the duPont REGISTRY?
|
| If it ain’t now, it will be
|
| Grew up on purple, went from humble
|
| Be bumpin' a bubble truck full of rumble
|
| In a major way, E-40 cookin' out the double
|
| Pot in the kitchen at all times
|
| I’m a boss, still write my own rhymes
|
| Been there, done it, been factor, trapper 'fore rapper
|
| Been 100 from day one, quick thinker, fast reactor
|
| Been a fixture, I don’t think it’s many left
|
| Been the shit like your baby mama breath
|
| Been in it for a while, benefittin'
|
| Custom houses and cars is how I’m livin'
|
| If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy
|
| If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me
|
| Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key
|
| But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street
|
| If I walk the walk, talk the talk, sling therapy
|
| If I spit what I knew then the courts would burn me
|
| Feds’ll lock me up and throw away the key
|
| But my word is bond, that’s the code of the street |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Saigon Velour , by - Ghostface Killah. Song from the album Ghost Files - Bronze Tape, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп