Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Thelonious, artist - Jay Dee. Album song Fan-Tas-Tic, Vol. 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 25.01.2009
Record label: Barak
Song language: English
Thelonious |
| Ha, yeah, yeah |
| Uhh, yeah, yeah, play at your own risk |
| Act like you know bitch I’m on some grown shit |
| Ha, yeah, yeah, play at your own risk |
| Act like you know bitch I’m on some grown shit |
| It’s the Thelonious, super microphonist |
| You know us, this rap shit we 'bout to own it You know it, these Mini-Me's tryin to clone us I got a bonus for the bitch that run up on us |
| I got a bonus for your bitch that run up on us |
| It’s the Thelonious, super microphonist |
| Uhh, no time to sleep cuz if you sleep you don’t eat |
| Gotta hold heat, just to make ends meet |
| Niggas livin on the street while other niggas feast |
| Aight wit you it aint aight wit me Right, gotta make money all my life |
| Gotta stay fuckin bitches many types |
| Yeah you know what I’m talkin 'bout |
| Yup, stay turnin these bitches out |
| Dick em down also dick em out |
| Throw somethin down whenever my dick’s out |
| They know me so they restructure and reroute |
| They know me from Washington to down south |
| All the way to London to my nigga Common house |
| Right, it’s like a game we never play out, out, out, out… |
| Nigga no doubt, nigga get live or get knocked the fuck out |
| Word up, just be about what you about dogg |
| Knowhatimsayin, just play at your own risk |
| Act like you know bitch I’m on some grown shit |
| It’s the Thelonious, super microphonist |
| You know us, this rap shit we 'bout to own it You know it, cuz you can feel it in your throat |
| Say it |
| I’m 'bout to let my mind float |
| (Com, say it) |
| Get your third eye poked |
| Fuck game, I assemble dope… |
| Ness, a nigga that’s fresh as the 'fess |
| Studied this rap shit, no need to mic test |
| You can feel it in your chest |
| Your B I, feel it in her breasts |
| Plus you, rhyme like a nigga wit his nipples pierced |
| We lick off lyrics in the streets and real niggas hear us Dreamin when I wrote this, box me if I go too wild |
| Still doin this shit like dude in wild style |
| Invitin wack niggas to dinner |
| I Trick Daddy emcees and I don’t know, Nann Nigga |
| Who can take it where I take it You better goin to God like Mase did |
| Leavin crowds complacent |
| I move em above clouds whether on some surf and turf shit |
| Or thug style you can feel it in your body |
| Yeah y’all you can feel it in your body |
| Like if a 12 gauge shottie shell hit your body |
| You don’t want no one to find your ass a hobby |
| Carbon copy, niggas tryin to clone us You know us, Thelonious, super microphone |
| You know this, rap shit we 'bout to own it dun, for real |
| Ay, it’s like a ritual |
| You been invited let the mortal body stimulate the place |
| With the grace, nevertheless, I stress |
| Let the music put a smile on your face |
| As for the ritual, when it comes to spiritual excellence |
| You know I always leave you with the taste |
| I know you like it hard to the core |
| That’s what you ask for, you achin for the best |
| Hurtin like a sore in that ass, like a ritual |
| Conversation with the most high makes me wanna cry |
| I wonder why, you wanna get to paradise |
| But that itty bitty part of you don’t wanna die |
| So pay attention to my word, cuz it’s the truth |
| Meditation ease the mind, and brings the youth |
| It’s like a verse you could never read out of a book |
| Droppin the line in your mind like a fish hook |
| Word is birth, yo I do it till the break of day |
| Pay attention to your art, never go astray |
| Word is bond |
| Yo we do it and we don’t quit |
| Sucka nigga you don’t want it, it’s Thelonious |
| Ownin this rap shit, super microphonist, and we known to spit |
| I spit fire like Esther on Sanford and Son did |
| I’m raw dude, more juice than Sunkiss |
| You want this, so MJ kept sayin the rhyme flawless |
| Shit fly like MJ in his prime, Off The Wall wit mines |
| I’m grabbin my balls when I rhyme, nine nines bustin plus |
| Ball all the time, now stay on your mind like great sex |
| You aint on my mind I’m thinkin 'bout paychecks |
| Niggas large like an Adex Avirex jacket |
| Yo the gods they bust like latex sex packets |
| Emcees they don’t rhyme and ball, they lyin’to y’all |
| They dyin’to ball, the rhyme we do all the time |
| We do all the fine bitches they fall in lines |
| Me and my mans is somethin like the Source Sports |
| We gettin money a long time and y’all short |
| My niggas bounce and full rise and y’alls fall |
| You funny doo, cuz really you think you can do me When you roll a 500 that’s really a 320 |
| Should of let somebody else hook it Numbers look crooked like King Kong shook it |
| I’m from where niggas bang gats when they celebrate |
| That’s how they play, don’t let it be a holiday |
| Thelonious niggas, if you testin us we get you laid back |
| Show you the definition of a pay back |