| It’s Erick Sermon, no need for those to guess yall
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| I confess, ya’ll, when I spit the yiggy yes yall
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| I gotcha, when that groove hit, no stoppin ya
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| Tear the club up like Three 6 Mafia
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| I’m real, react when it’s time to peel
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| Step, if you want it, come get it, come wid it, what the deal?
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| Yo dog, I roll tight in my stinkin Lincoln
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| With black frame, grey interior with the wood grain
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| And two stash boxes, for the funds and guns
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| I don’t own an UZI, but my 9 weights a ton
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| Kid, we be the mos' deffest, no squad can catch us
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| We takin the, drastic measures to fulfill the pleasures
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| When I turn one hundred and eight, with wrinkles in my face
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| My name will still be in debates about who was great
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| I make you tie your lace two times when I create
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| Cause when I begin to get slick, I sweat Quaker State
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| We three the hard way, tight like little Jamal’s face
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| You offers, I walk through your church without no parlay
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| Or permits, fuck your white picket fence
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| I’m from the hood, keepin it tinsel, 17 inch
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| I’m strictly convinced, yall puss
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| Flippin crack, save that
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| I kepp my money stacked, ghetto diplomat style
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| Order it now, no refunds
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| I’m like a clib with jums
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| I move crack fiends with different vowels
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| Even technicians can’t repair the mic I spit on
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| I’m too underground to dance with that shiny shit on
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| , naah, call National Guards and trucks
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| And their weapons better be big as fuck!
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| Ay yo, the three of us together is incredible
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| Like a miracle, finally I get to move it up a few decimals
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| Unquestionable, Unconscionable to the mental
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| Not that happy dappy shit that you’re use to
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| I got the skunky funky illest funk flow
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| For the glamorous, scandalous world of radio
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| And pimpin ain’t dead, ya’ll niggas just scared
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| To smack a ho, and make that tramp get up out there
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| Oh yeah, I heard your new shit is GARBAGE
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| Bastard, lookin like you just stepped out of a casket
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| I get stupid, dumb, illiterate when I’m killin it
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| Real legitamate, bitches gettin intimate
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| In nineteen hundred and ninety eight
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| We gonna set a whole lotta different shit straight
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| You suckas, no good, insecure back barnyard sewer rat eatin motherfuckers! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Can You Dig It, artist - Keith Murray. Album song Best Of Keith Murray, Vol. 1, in the genre Соул