Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Say What U Wanna, artist - Potluck. Album song Greatest Hits with My Buds, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 19.07.2010
Record label: Suburban Noize
Song language: English
Say What U Wanna |
| Say what you wanna say, say what you won’t say |
| Do what you wanna do, do what you won’t do |
| Be what I’m gonna be, that’s all I got to be |
| You just a wannabe, so back the fuck up off of me |
| Here we go again, it’s the veteran, yo we better than |
| Even your friends are pickin' me over them |
| Got you breeze on the bed, on her knees givin' head |
| Wannabe, but you never be what I been |
| Lyrically, I’m a tank, never gonna quit, cause I gotta represent |
| Make another hit, puffin' a little bit of the incredible shit |
| I got your girl on my mind, so I’m fuckin' a bitch |
| I’m all up in the beat, you pretend to be |
| And it’s better than the yay, cause it’s meant to be |
| Humboldt County is the place where they blaze the weed |
| I bet you never believe, now take a blaze from me |
| We gonna stop, drop, rock and roll |
| Ain’t not time to be geekin', we gonna do that though |
| Flip that ho, kick that flow |
| Make it to the top, then we get that dough! |
| It ain’t funny, you don’t wanna play games |
| Ask who’s the best, and you better say James |
| Normal thing, everyday, whoop ass and take names |
| Sit your five dollar ass down, 'fore I make change |
| Get you poppin' off, stalkin' the block |
| All the bitches better know that I’m hot in the spot |
| Poppin' the Glock, got me a knot |
| Niggas need to know that I’m walkin' my talk |
| It’s on time, my coast gonna shine, shine, shine |
| Can’t see nigga, blind, blind, blind |
| One Ton and the J.J. |
| boy, fuckin' three hoes, dime, dime, dime |
| Haters back up, hoes gon' get smacked up |
| Holla at the club when I get that love |
| Hit it from the back while I smoke a fat dub |
| Then I’m done and I get a back rub |
| I’m the nigga with the vendetta, so I can be better, bitch |
| A motherfucker that run over competitors |
| No medicine in me, I’m better than many |
| Sick in the cerebellum, tell 'em a nigga like a sedative |
| I’mma do what I wanna do, when I do it |
| You gonna be knowin' the second I do |
| Because of the rain, because of the pain |
| Ya niggas, the game, the Tecca Nina’s |
| Vexed and wreckin' your crew |
| Say what you wanna say, I’m a real |
| Niggas so give me your dollar bill |
| Takin' away from me, I’mma kill |
| Givin' it to me and I’mma chill |
| Can’t nobody stop a nigga from makin' a mill' |
| If I wanna put the Platinum off in the grill |
| Maybe tryna find a bitch or two I wanna drill, a nigga will |
| Be what I wanna be, get from in front of me |
| If you ain’t livin' or doin' what you feel |
| Only take a minute for me to get up in it, homie |
| You’re a lieutenant, cronie and I’m a general |
| Sendin' you minimal niggas to hell |
| Used to be makin' criminal mail |
| Now I’ll be makin' critical sails |
| Never know when I might pop-up |
| Better hope I never let the Glock bust |
| Tryna battle niggas, then you got stuck |
| Ain’t nobody fuckin' with Tech and the Potluck! |
| Take a look around, look at the way I be goin' down |
| Tecca Nina with the mo' flow |
| Ain’t no fake in the track, nigga, we shakin' the rap |
| Makin' the tats — snake and the bat logo |
| Gettin' money, fuckin' bitches on the low-low |
| Sit her on my dick, and make her play pogo |
| You can say what you wanna say, Nina fuckin' your bitch |
| Lookin' like a motherfuckin' clown, nigga, Bozo |
| Who be the best? |
| You gon' bet it’s me |
| With the sound underground, no MTV |
| One Ton, Underrated, we the PLC |
| Best group of the year and the century |
| You better let me be, ain’t no catchin' me |
| All the girls get wet when they mention me |
| When I’m flippin' and rippin' and takin' over control |
| I bet you thinkin' you better, but you’re an idiot though |
| Get up and go, mayne, you illiterate, bro |
| Don’t you ever be thinkin' you can match the flow |
| I’m unmatchable, with a sack of dro' |
| When I’m high, talkin' shit like John McEnroe |
| We gon' stack the dough, get a 'Lac and roll |
| Gettin' blown in the back with a naked ho |
| Cakin' the dough, pack another bowl, move slow |
| Smoke an ounce 'til my brain cells go! |
| Bye-bye, we fly, the sky, so high |
| And where the fuck we from? |
| Don’t die, we cry, West Side, fo' life! |
| And we gon' do it now |
| Blowin' up, news style, boom-blowh |
| Fuck you up, with a look like, «Who Now?» |
| Got your whole crew shook, when they go down |
| Flow and grow, we don’t know when to slow down! |