Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 2 Turntables & A Mic, artist - Sheek Louch. Date of issue: 17.03.2008
Song language: English
2 Turntables & A Mic |
| Walk with a diddy-bop, arm out the hard-top |
| Leaning like the eighties, Bs on the Mercedes |
| Piff lit, yelling out some shit to the ladies |
| Chrome three-eighty, too small to go on my hip |
| So I just keep it right next to my grip |
| I’m a B-Boy standing in my B-Boy stance |
| But I don’t breakdance ever since 'One More Chance' |
| I’m a fly muh’fucker, I do it +BIG+ like that Bed'-Stuy' muh’fucker |
| Coupe at the Rucker |
| M.O.P. |
| blasting, yeah 'Blucka Blucka' |
| I don’t throw it back, I’m just cool like that |
| White tee, white terrycloth, Fila hat |
| You know the goons is here |
| You’d think Flex started the car show a little bit early this year |
| Old Caprices totally gutted |
| Copped it from an old man, when I got it it was totally flooded |
| Now this one chick seen it and totally nutted |
| «Sh-Sh-Sh-Sheek.» |
| that’s what she stuttered, haha |
| I’m an H-double O-D-L-U-M |
| In the streets but still fly high like Jim |
| I do ten or, and a year and a day like Kim |
| Either way your chances of beating me are slim |
| I’m not him, please take precaution |
| Your boy Sheek pull that baby out like an abortion, let’s go |
| Let’s go |
| Two turntables and a mic, let’s go |
| It ain’t over till someone fight, let’s go |
| Police come and ruin our night, let’s go |
| Let’s go, let’s go |
| Go hoodlums, go thugs |
| Police thank everyone but men got drugs |
| Couple of revolvers, clips and some slugs |
| Sheek watch the news, I know if I’m going for a cruise |
| The stashbox got a fresh fuse |
| Apache on him, break beating, bringing it back |
| Bringing it back, bringing it back, bringing it back |
| Bringing it back, bringing it back, apache on him |
| Now its CDs, no vinyl |
| Sheek go back like the Jeffersons' first +Lionel+ |
| They ask me to spit, I said sure |
| I had to think what the game missing now, straight up raw |
| I ain’t no backpacker, I’m a clown smacker |
| A weed-smoking nutcracker |
| I’m in the hood with bottles |
| With two hoodrats that could be models, if they lose some weight |
| But I’m good, a fat ass to me is straight |
| Old Levi’s, five-oh-one, wash 'em one time, they done |
| Eff it, I got more in the trunk |
| Next to the Stan Smiths, next to the pump |
| You hear that bump when it’s come on, the crowd jump |
| Drinks get spilled, the crowd get crunk |
| I’m back on it, I got straight hood music |
| Either way you put it, it’s all good music, let’s go |