Lyrics Goldyn Chyld - Ras Kass

Goldyn Chyld

Yeah yeah
We gonna send this one out
To all the niggas
That want beef.
They got baby teeth
That’s why you can’t eat, you little faggot
That Primo shit, Rassy Kassy, Goldyn Chyld
Ya know
Its the R-ah-A-S, K-A-double S
Ejecting airbag, wreck a nigga’s bubble S-Class
What’s comin' next?
Let’s mash
Get so high walkin' I catch jetlag
If it ain’t Hennessy and OJ, homie miss me
Keep my hairline down to the Nike sign crispy
Spit be, strictly mini-me Bin Laden’s
Mixed with 16 men with life in the pen ridin'
Gangsta — fuck how many records you sell
Get put on the missing milk carton in XXL
And it’s NOTHIN, let’s double the dare
Dick so deep down ya bitch mouth, I’ll cum in her hair
Guns and ones in the air, niggas with stripes
Shootin kites, posted on low-rider bikes
Gat named Russell Simmons, God bless and good night
You done fucked up like Crip walkin' by Suge Knight
That’s what happens when you reach for what you can’t feel
I be the… wild Goldyn Chyld
Come on, come on, yo
Ask the crew if I’m nice, they all say true
That’s what happens when you reach for what you can’t feel
I be the… wild Goldyn Chyld
The baddest flow… niggas know…
Guess I’m a rap nigga, 'cause homeboy, its a wrap
Commit a driveby with the Music Express van and toss the gat
Hop on a red eye to NYC though
D&D, linked with Primo
And I’m hungry, so I’mma take what you got
Throw up a dub, spit at the camera like 2Pac
My rap style is chic/Sheek like two L.O.X
Word on a few blocks;
my technique’s too hot
I repeat, DO NOT get it twisted
Get ya head a brick or «Park» in 106, bitch
They catch me exprayin a halo, with an immitation J-Lo, ya know
Haters lay low
Who the only West Coast nigga to air out Kay Slay mixtapes tho?
(Rassy) Mo' dirty, SC 430
Steering with my knee, eating a plate of beef curry, beyotch!
That’s what happens when you reach for what you can’t feel
I be the… wild Goldyn Chyld
Come on, come on, yo
Ask the crew if I’m nice, they all say true
That’s what happens when you reach for what you can’t feel
I be the… wild Goldyn Chyld
The baddest flow… niggas know…
I pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy
Boricuas call me papi, when they pop their «p»
Used to pop-lock at Locke in Watts
Pop locks and burglarize spots
Pop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy, graduated to Suzuki’s
Hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi
Ask me what’s poppin?
Most likely your collarbone
Ever had the feeling when ya by yourself, you’re not alone?
With Big Brother, and Big Brother see you
I’m hard-headed, my dick look like R2D2
Mini-me too, speed through in the V-1−2
C-Arson style, know how we do
All money is legal, dead pres and green eagles
You funny style like Bernie Mac, rapping like Beanie Siegel
Goldyn Chyld of the West, don’t know how to act though
Kicked off the Up in Smoke tour for scrappin' with Staff Pro
That’s what happens when you reach for what you can’t feel
I be the… wild Goldyn Chyld
Come on, come on, yo
Ask the crew if I’m nice, they all say true
That’s what happens when you reach for what you can’t feel
I be the… wild Goldyn Chyld
The baddest flow… niggas know…
That’s what happens when you reach for what you can’t feel
I be the… wild Goldyn Chyld…