Gutta Butta Lyrics - Still Standing - Goodie Mob

Yo, we gon do it like this 

Straight out the parts. . . that they disregard 

Never considered . . . ok 

Now don't get mad, nigga get glad 

Goodie got them brand new trash bags . . dag 

And they know where to dump that ass 

In the chair 

The hoochie river with the rest of the kids 

That did business outside la familians 

Gettin ya touched 

Down the cut 

Blunts roastin whole through tea bags 

Blowin bubbles out the wrong end 

Mud in your stool piles 

Flamin hotter than Dust Valley 

The gateway to where ever your sick tickle desire 

The gangsters of this other century 

Transforming hustlers and players into sissies 

So slim goodie 

You don't want no drug boy 

He'll leave you barefooted and pregnant 

Don't get too comfortable 

You ain't gon be here too long 

G's get locked up and die (clean) 

Most lie in they own surreal home 

Trust the tree on the map 

This one individual thought he was the Grim Reaper 

Swole, couldn't nobody put a finger on his naps 

Now he up under the bridge stankin 

In his birthday suit 

Used to always holler about how he was gon do a brother (get him!) 

Beat him to the punch-line, one? 

Being forced into early retirement at the age of 26 

Palms feel like bricks - peeling from distributing crack 

Crumb snatchers and goo-gobblers struggle 

To stay on top of sand dunes 

Cause mouths born with silver spoons 

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Make your bed you gotta sleep in it 

But stakes made 

Baking soda kept the knees clean 

Narrow like a ravine 

? fell good news 

Last hole, green jacket worn, body in two 

Left by oh-no 

Soul been gone, disappeared like the dune 

Once the temperature rise 

But I'm with my Lawd (lord) 

? Please grits, still ship 

Half the pipes are gettin sold out convienience stores 

Where ya at now? 

Comming around trying to sniff out sounds 

Well rounded kept you strictly grounded for your ear 

The dogs are gettin closer to the? now can you hear? 

I smell fear and even if your eyes was closed 

Your ass couldn't catch your tear 

Photos 

Lies, straws, mirrors and plates 

Nicks, dimes, fifties, and cakes 

Why can't I escape 

These lies, straw, mirrors and plates? 

In the land of jacks I got my acts over the tracks with stacks 

Upon the map in the vault 

Where this cat's trying to sniff me out 

I'm in the southwest woods working all about 

Paper capers, never hurt them brothers to obtain 

If I can't refrain cause some of these niggaz snortin cain 

And really don't know which way to go 

Confused, you'll abuse anybody for a fix 

Hits go for ten bucks, go for 20 and they good and plenty 

Fat baggies like? Maggies? muffin 

Where the kid do the stuffin 

Silly of these young niggaz watching me 

As I turn figures into solitare 

Twirl up my hair (down south) 

Pray to God I don抰 have to do him 

Like I never knew or had no clue to who you was 

Cuz, face to face with a scar engraved upon his left cheek 

So to speak,? like a icon when it was done to approach my mosse 

Be on that Rossie like The Click 

So I stay ready for combat and watch the rich get rich off it 

Chorus 

Nigga I ain't shit, I just know how to rhyme a little bit 

Nigga please, I'm still trying to squeeze my fat ass in where I fit 

Now I got a little dough, but it ain't that much mo 

than every other nigga I know 

We all still po 

I don't sell dope (what you doin?) 

I sell hope 

You wanna size me up my nigga then wear a scope 

Cause you gon see me on MLK and on T.V. 

I ain't got no fear, my nigga I was born to wait right here 

Late one night I was in a pearl white Acura Legendary 

I got that thang with me cause it's necessary 

Shit, I was just ridin 

Wasn't even thinking慴out collidin 

But I kept seeing the same headlights running stop signs and red lights 

I don't prepared myself to die if it's my time to go 

He said "you know what it is, you done seen it before" 

This sad, of course I'ma be mad 

Well here you can have it god damnit if you want it that bad 

You would try to take from me, my nigga I ain't no star 

I value both of our lives more than this car 

You lucky nigga, I used to be you 

Shit and I'd bust a hole in your chest somebody could see through 

Now remember, shit, you could've died tonight 

And I would've been in the right 

I ain't even pissed you could just drop me off at the house 

Cause I ain't really dying by nothin like this 

He-he-he-he-he-he 

Everythang cool my nigga, you could just drop me off at the house 

Knahmsayin?