Gutta Gorillaz Lyrics - Rasaq

Hey... 

[Chamillionaire] 

Bad is how I kick nigga no way, that little ass pager is so gay 

My 2-way way too big to be a 2-way, it's a 4-way 

Ask me who the hardest rapper nigga, you know who I'm gon say 

I'ma say ay-ay-ay, like JT Money and Sole 

Koopa don't pay for the four play, you tell her how much that you gon pay 

You must be kin to oranthol, cause you a Simpson like you OJ 

OJ throwback no way, the OJ throwback I throw away 

Too many niggas dress alike, I ain't trying to be you for the whole day 

Look like a 2 Fast 2 Furious clip, on a tow away 

It look like I'm riding backwards, rims spinning the wrong way 

See that Fake-ob I mean Jacob on your arm, nigga no way 

That ain't authentic, we know what it is but I won't say 

Wanna know if my pockets fat, and how much do my do' weigh 

A question like that, will get a chick kicked through the do' way 

I don't give no do' away, get out she gon obey 

She gon take the coat from a Lil' Jon song and say, (okaaay) 

Gutta gorilla, mayn I ain't no Holly 

Wood industry ass nigga no, they don't call me 

On the phone like they wanna bone, cause they know prolly 

The chick I'm with gotta have a upgrade, and a J-Lo body 

My princess cuts why the slugs, look kinda like lightening bugs 

Rims double the size of dubs, they standing as high as us 

Koopa don't keep a strap scratch that, cause he prolly does 

Keep a heater with extra slugs, in a clip in his Ivy dubs 

For a minute, Nappy Roots had a whole movement by being po' 

Through that movement I was moving units, they must of been moving slow 

True I'm on the radio, but I prove I'm streeter than Greg 

Flip the microphone off the stand, and you'll get beat in the head 

(*talking*) 

Yeah, my solo album Controversy Sells 

Drops in November, on the same day as Paul Wall's 

"People's Champ" solo album, Color Changin' Click-clack 

[Rasaq] 

Aw suckering-suckatash, who's that coming up on that cash 

Screens go z-z, when I push a button up on the dash 

But a weapon up on my ass, do dirt like what's under grass 

Two shirts might have something stashed, you jerk if something flash 

You move if something blast, you hurt and on your ass 

You cursing when I pass, I'm swerving in a slab 

It's Rasaq on the block, in a drop with no top 

With a bottle with no top, and a model with no top 

And I'm going to the spot, where niggas is losing 

Put the clip up to you spit it, and let it rip through your FUBU 

Dog I know cats that'll break you, in a kitten caboodle's 

In a range for a funeral, for the niggas who knew you 

I'm in the hood in the hallway, where there's pissing and doo-doo 

And the fiends creeping at night, and come up twitching up to you 

I recycle what I see in the hood, and deliver it to you 

With niggas is coo-coo, hang with a few loose screws 

Or when I'm flipping in hoo-doo's, sitting on two-two's 

Listening to new Screw, jewelry is glistening and too blue 

And I'm chilling with your new boo, I ain't forced her in the whip 

Got her talking so much, I told her to put a cork in it 

Like Sammy Sosa's bat, leave your mammy with a swollen back 

These tracks on a broke mattress, a couple of bones is cracked 

And I'm gone no coming back, no hugging no rubbing backs 

I'm thugging and loving stacks, nigga how you loving that