Brown Paper Bag Thoughts Lyrics - Singles - Dj Clue

[Featuring Raekwon The Chef] 

Yo man what 

Yo y'all niggas know 

Yo you know all that bullshit man 

Yeah some niggas don't even 

These niggas man 

What's the matter wid these niggas man? 

Nah man I'm puttin this shit up 

Fuck dat man 

Ya'll niggas want me to be a crook again 

I know how to do that man don't even play wid 

me like that Yo 

Verse 1: 

We spit rap and fire brown paper bag 

gat rap go whack and float acrooss the map 

floss that anything yell endorse that 

Electric company money honey Gin Romie wrap 

'em like a mummy his style bummy 

Puffy Johnson Charles Bronson mix fly 

deuce flicks new and improved clicks Wu-kit 

Blood on the barrel of a desert out in the desert 

no shade'll live in my square blow the present Clue 

Red meat Shallah want adapt to collect acting like you 

iller on some serial killer you wack duke shirt off 

react like I'm bagging up stabbing up what collect 

a brick pop shit in the six trunk 

Nah nah man, Nah man you wanna have that shit again 

Why you ain't taking this shit to be something that 

it really is man? 

This you life man, 

Shoalin and desert storm 

This mic man he he acting stupid on me man 

What What What 

Verse 2: 

Yo, Aiyyo, yo 

Moseyin thousand dollar uniform you want 

Celine Dion chickenheads yo straight out of Houston 

Big ballers wall to wall brawlers die for us 

Lie for us, snatch white man money cry for us 

Creepin' through the halls on a keyboard 

Friendly blessed dress and all Fendi 

voice rock don't offend me intimidation make 

me blow for the station rep for one nation 

Ghetto bust like revelation, analyse 

losin' two wives livin' two lives 

Crew rise American Cream new guys 

Two hundred pies get rich and plan sweet 

Rappin' like mines you writing like mines they lines 

Grab my dick stay in line we come to whip nines 

Hold lot of carrying time and teaching crackers how 

to shine, oh yeah one thing recognise fucking 

wit the young keep 'em organised rest in peace 

Donny my soul cries, What 

I dunn hold it, hold it, hold it, hold it 

Natural light up, light up, that's my word 

This is this is for Clue right here dunn 

Verse 3: 

I'm third rail though half seal and I blow 

Robert Deniro dough gundelero let the steel blow 

Here me yo wild Trump style dunns connect 

three hundred ones while floating like a 

?macual chest bloaw? most craziest laziest 

All I seeing blazes majorness mechanic wreckor 

on a beige disc payin whether level bank rolls freakin' 

plain clothes Lex big six arrange those snotty nose 

pose dark skinned hoes crazy ill fly jersey exposed 

neck rolls fuck your set flash let those stare the 

Lex nose watching vet po posing wit the most fly 

livest gortex made in Mexico, Brancs fifteen five 

Celine Dion ties two thousand nine bubble eye shit 

*talking by Raekwon and DJ Clue* 

Clue Killuminati 

John Gotti story right here fella 

Huh, Yeah, Word up 

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