| Uh, give me something real smooth and real icy
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| Like the Chaos and the 9−3 with the Owls and the Wizzy
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| Real smooth, real icy
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| I was in the booth with Dike, you was in a nightie
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| I was selling out a show, you was in a onesie
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| Ketamine you sniffing got you clumsy
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| Swear the bredda hate the way I move
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| Real smooth, real icy
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| You was watching Hollyoaks and I was in the library
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| Now I’m getting gwola loads, them mandem wan' despise me
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| Swear down, booking Wiz is getting pricey (so pricey)
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| I hear 'em talking, hear 'em talking
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| Love the way they want to wheel up Walkin'
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| Love the way they see the way I kill it
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| See the way I bring the chalk in
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| See the outline of the body when I draw it
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| Everyone adore it, awe its
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| Fuck off with your one liners
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| Everybody co-sign us, I don’t do no consigning
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| I’ve got all this rent to pay, so I don’t need no odd fivers
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| I’m the boss brudda, you are not Simon
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| You’re not vibrant, you’re not funny
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| Got no money, ripped trackies
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| You’re so bummy, I’m so aggy
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| She’s so touchy, she’s so grabby
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| I’m so lucky, she’s so sucky
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| That yatty, she’s so ucky
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| With no manners, she’s so raggers
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| I’ve got Bills, like Bo Baggins, she’s just catting
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| Like «fuck where’s the old fashion»
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| Tight madams, they ain’t shagging
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| First date cause they like rapping
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| (Still I’m) Real smooth, real icy
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| Feeling like I’m kali on the hyphy
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| Never been the type to say I wouldn’t if I might be
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| Cause you know it’s Wizzy and the Chaos, that’s the 9−3
|
| Real smooth, real icy
|
| I was in the booth with Dike, you was in a nightie
|
| I was selling out a show, you was in a onesie
|
| Ketamin you sniffing got you clumsy
|
| Swear the bredda hate the way I move
|
| Real smooth, real icy
|
| You was watching Hollyoaks and I was in the library
|
| Now I’m getting gwola loads, the man want to despise me
|
| Swear down, booking Wiz is getting pricey (so pricey)
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| Burning California wax, still ignore him when he raps
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| My lyrics like the echo through time, forever calling back
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| Fed up with the crap, we can do this in time
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| Suckers saying I’m dumb, must be them chalking my outline
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| Stroke my only oyster, you’re still trying to find the moisture
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| My last album sounds like your whole career spoiler
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| Mad pointers like a piston caught with no lawyers
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| In the stitch up, the details in the lines like embroiders
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| It’s diabolic, trying to be higher like hydraulics
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| Even with a ghost writing team you ain’t where I’m on it
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| Sign off it, ignite topics to fire logic
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| Drop a needle from so high you would think a giant’s got it
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| Performing for your line with piff from a caravan
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| Every word I say spells 'FUCK YOU' as an anagram
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| Never planned, too stoned to speak or shake hands
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| In 2020 the new president of Amsterdam
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| I swoop in and high five you for the ice breaker
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| It’s Big Owl, mad high like a skyscraper
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| My motto’s 'Live now and die later'
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| Grinding 9 to 9 son, fuck a hiatus
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| But I hit the bong today, never on a long delay
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| Shouting at these motherfuckers «Andale! |
| Andale!»
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| Why you gotta make away still, with the hand of Satan
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| He try shake mine, son I’m going to amputate his
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| Dropping bangers that are amping up the fanbases
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| Having ganders cause they’re scandalous and outrageous
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| Paparazzi got us snapping when we smash stages
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| Do this for the love and always get cash payments
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| You’re sat stagnating, no balls, castrating
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| Pre-meditated greatness, no rash statements
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| Phone getting tapped daily like ash when blazing
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| So high right now, it’s like I’m astral planing
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| It’s Verb T, I’m in the club
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| I don’t like it much
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| But I tear the crowd down once you line 'em up
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| Winding up your mind like a toy, soldier
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| Pouncing on the beat like a poised, cobra
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| Uh, we get to grips like it’s judo
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| But show respect where it’s due though
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| Since I was a kid trying to build without the Duplos
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| Still I carve jewels though
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| Drop 'em on your head like a tombstone
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| Two O’s, one for Owls, one for Ocean
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| New flows, some profound some ferocious
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| Overdid it with the lotion, I’m too smooth
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| New trends, probably got them fools wearing Tu-tu's
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| You should do you, and not what they say
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| I laugh while you try and talk shit with a straight face |
| Mug, maintain, fucking with a gateway drug
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| In another world feeling that space age buzz
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| Mad laid-back, style’s 'play that'
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| The great sack reacting with the goon, now I spray raps
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| Hungry dog, or a stray cat, strange chat
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| See me doing art on the side, just like a train track
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| So shouts to Wizzy, the beaver getting digy on the ready
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| Smoking lettuce with Luigi from the city
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| Puff puff, but never Diddy
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| I might pass out, but never passed it like silly
|
| Yo
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| No doping scandal, what drugs we’re dope enough to handle
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| So much moisture, spit flames where the river ran through
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| Four Owls and the Wisdom, you know it ran through
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| Take control of your life, don’t need no beads and bangles
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| That’s why we’re strictly rhyming on this shit
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| Fuck statistics, can’t follow with no witch shit
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| No bitches, what is this?
|
| Course evidence existed, but never do you wrong, so no snitches
|
| Real smooth, real icy
|
| Feeling like I’m kali on the hyphy
|
| Never been the type to say I wouldn’t if I might be
|
| Cause you know it’s Wizzy and the Chaos, that’s the 9−3
|
| Real smooth, real icy
|
| I was in the booth with Dike, you was in a nightie
|
| I was selling out a show, you was in a onesie
|
| Ketamin you sniffing got you clumsy
|
| Swear the bredda hate the way I move
|
| Real smooth, real icy
|
| You was watching Hollyoaks and I was in the library
|
| Now I’m getting gwola loads, the man want to despise me
|
| Swear down, booking Wiz is getting pricey (so pricey) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Real Smooth, artist - Ocean Wisdom. Album song Chaos 93', in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп