| Shoulda got me some… Jack Daniels for this one
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| Hahaha! |
| Yeah. |
| Uh… Bounce. |
| Yo, hehe
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| So smooth, I don’t need-… I don’t wanna say too much, y’know?
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| Yo, Willie B this got that bounce to it
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| Matter fact my nigga, burn an ounce to it
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| I po' up then pen songs, clowns wanna right they wrong
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| by makin dis songs, what the fuck is goin on with the youth?!
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| Ten plus years, this song truth
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| No matter what the budget I recoup, I’m uncouth
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| like a man tryna whistle that’s missin his front tooths
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| Minor league players oblivious to the truth
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| They not ready, dyin to rock the boat remain steady
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| Let bitches do the bitchin, niggaz petty
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| Never gonna make it out they city, with all due respect
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| Y’all really can’t fuck with me, I’m the one not chosen
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| Known to leave the fenders frozen
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| Take 'em to the rack and smash on 'em like DeRozan, posin
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| Yo, you ain’t accomplish a thing
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| Another dream deffered, you my lil' nigga, kiss the ring, waddup?
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| They say life ain’t fair but it sure been good to me
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| Baby, I can complain but why cry when I still get by
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| This is where I’m supposed to be, I put my prints in the sand
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| I put my prints in the sand, I put my prints in the sand
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| Why cry when I still get by, cause I know where I’m s’posed to be — it’s right
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| here
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| Know trouble will find you, voice said in my head and it’s final
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| Spinnin the vinyl, pretendin my legend on trial
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| That’s fakin my humble, more money modesty takin a tumble
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| Rollin this sticky laidback, think, take on this sunroof
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| Prayin to put my prints in then, pen I’m not a penciler
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| Pensive niggaz never prosper, that don’t sound like Pender, bruh
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| Seattle rapper lead the way, this is now my generation
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| No statement’s too big to say, make 'em move to motivate
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| And Rapper Pooh done hit the dial — hold it now
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| Told me he got Willie B and they need me to hold it down
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| Golden child and gridlock make simple minds go around
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| Knew I would become somewhere, you have to find a different route
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| Get from out, round here, it’s holy ground on princi-pal
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| All it takes is Ace to spill from the grail and snakes’ll scale and slither out
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| Never put my faith in man who put his faith in doubt
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| Nothing you can say when I make my momma proud
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| Been in er’rythang so royal and grand
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| But I ain’t rap too tight, you artists rap like Renagel
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| But before my plans to come record and blend
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| You’ll be fried shortly, they started puttin oil in pans already
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| Your settlement to me niggaz, sealed and send already
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| Put my pens in your heart, supply my demands already
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| I know my verse is worth it, I’m deeper than grandma purses
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| Runway models waitin for me, let me lend already
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| Let me build a brand already, people needed some of mine
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| All of it was planned already, all of it by God design
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| You can call me Richard Petty, my sick second from my drive
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| and being relatable, people love it when you keep it live
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| All I’m tryin to be is real, give you somethin you can feel
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| Ready to offer me a mil, I’m good if I can’t keep it trill
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| I’m glad I’m here but I ain’t e’en started eatin still
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| Knife and fork, won’t be far when I recieve a meal
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| Uh… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song FootPrints , by - Rapper Big Pooh. Song from the album Fat Boy Fresh Volume 3.5: Happy Birthday Thomas, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп