Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song If You Know What I Mean, artist - Horrorshow. Date of issue: 23.02.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
If You Know What I Mean |
| There was an ocker kicking rhymes up in the land of rock and roll |
| He’s not a rocker, just a stoner on a roll (On a roll) |
| Goin' all out on the road and tryna make the honour roll |
| See I been all up in the dojo practicin' my braggadocio |
| Learned to toot my own horn, blow my saxophone and my oboe |
| Soprano, alto, baritone, mastered my high and low notes |
| A quick jazz cigarette then I’m takin' my solo |
| If you ain’t heard about it ask around |
| On any given Sunday bet we turn the party out |
| Get love on every corner walkin' through our part of town |
| Yeah, you that lucky winner, Price Is Right and so you better come on down |
| To the inner west, come and visit the turf |
| You’ll see my crew be runnin' Sydney like the City2Surf |
| From the pretty beach sides to the sticks in the 'burbs |
| They say «that dude Smooth Nicholas, he slick with them words» |
| I was rollin' with my brosef and he turned and said to me |
| «Homie, you been goin' in since we was only seventeen» |
| I said «I ain’t one to blow my own, but I tend to agree |
| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean, what I mean» |
| Now the punters say they love the way I spit it on the beat |
| It put the roof over my head and put the kicks up on my feet |
| Nothin' changed, still a couple snakes, we cut them blades of green |
| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean |
| The sorta shit that they let fly, I could do with my eyes closed |
| But I’m taking the high road, tryna scale heights, never fall off cause I climb |
| slow |
| See my sign’s goat, as in G.O.A.T |
| Make my way from A to B while spelling out what’s plain to see |
| My man was shotgun in the 'Yota, looked over and said to me |
| «Homie, you been goin' in since we was only seventeen» |
| When we’d rock up to your house party, rollin' twenty deep |
| Turnin' off your Black Eyed Peas and throwin' on some BDP |
| R.B.G, R.O.C, Eminem or D.R.E |
| R.S.E, BnE or Suffa, Pressure, and Debris |
| For the moment probably be that O.V.O or T.D.E |
| But homie this that O.N.E, that D.A.Y, that E.N.T |
| Nowadays we got our names up on the list and drinks are free |
| It’s like something I think I saw in a vision or a dream |
| I’m tryna paint the kind of picture that make you picture the scene |
| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean |
| I was rollin' with my brosef and he turned and said to me |
| «Homie, you been goin' in since we was only seventeen» |
| I said «I ain’t one to blow my own, but I tend to agree |
| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean, what I mean |
| Now the punters say they love the way I spit it on the beat |
| It put the roof over my head and put the kicks up on my feet |
| Nothin' changed, still a couple snakes, we cut them blades of green |
| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean |
| Don’t wanna blow my own trumpet, don’t wanna toot my own horn |
| Don’t wanna beat my own drum kit, don’t wanna write my own score |
| But they like it, they love it, they buy it, they bump it, recite it |
| Turn it up and then they bump it up some more |
| Don’t wanna blow my own trumpet, don’t wanna toot my own horn |
| Don’t wanna beat my own drum kit, don’t wanna write my own score |
| But they like it, they love it, they buy it, they bump it, recite it |
| Turn it up and then they bump it up some more |