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goodfella - watch yo' mouf كلمات الأغنية

[intro: goodfella, (moor), {atticus}, & /cino/ ]
(hey young blood, i want to introduce you to my man atticus), he’s like chris rock from “the longest yard”)
oh word? caretaker?
{yo, what up bruh?}
what’s up my man, viviani
{i heard from this dude moor you’re cool people, low-key, not really look for no problems}
yeah, pretty much. but you know what? trouble always finds me, man
anyway, who’s that dude over there pumping iron?
{oh buddy, he swears he runs this shit cause he got bodies, acting like nobody got bodies on ’em}
oh word?
{yo where you going?}
yo, yo, yo, hey!
/listen motherf-cker, around here you show some respect with fresh royalty cigs for me/

[verse i]
only a pack of grits for your thoughts?
i can pay your bail with what i think
southern boy, my cuban links pull eighteen wheelers
i’m heaven sent with a devil’s grin, ain’t none realer
my tongue’s an ill shank you still gone battle against me?
under sedatives i k!ll men in steel tanks, man!
hope the lord forgives ya!
i’m a rhyming aneurism so you know my brain going k!ll ya!
hold up! you think you hold weight?
when you a bulimic b-tch about to throw up!
your b-tch just birthed twins, guess who bust both nuts?
i left that c-ke slut wet like tsunami
f-cking with viviani that suicide with a tommy
you sweet and fake like splenda
i’ll leave you bl–dy like chucky, dismay in my agenda
you child’s play, moor this nigga ain’t a contender
slain in the trenches and any attempts to avenge him
i’ll render them worthless like confederate tender
climatic in rising action, shit i should rhyme with captions
so stupid motherf-ckers like you get my rhyming captured
they say ‘dumb it down!’ that’s how the game goes
you know what i tell them? maaan

[hook]
watch yo’ mouf bruh! (2x)

[verse ii: viviani (roscharch)]
i’m a mercenary for the f-cking cash flow
and if y’all barter cigs i’ma chain smoke nigga till i don’t have lungs
this the art of war, sung! snatch your rhyming business
shit, it cost to be the boss, let these words be the pension
(finish him, he in that fatality pose)
get over here, i warned you beware
the machine gun funk flow
my loud mouth expects that 2pac gun blow
mix him, tec, and em, got yourself a good gumbo
me shaking any your teammates wants to rumble?
and shit you definitely a player, with all these b-tches around you
so sweet, taste the rainbow talking about you
you suck, like the b-tch in my grandma couch bruh!
dig yourself a ditch and make your last deed profound bruh!
before a piece meets your dome
your last regret is to test the scourge
that conquered julius caesar’s rome
and i’m gone!

[hook]
watch yo’ mouf bruh! (2x)

[verse iii: viviani]
that f-cker swung, i dodged and threw a punch
knocked him on the floor; clocked him in the jaw
soaked his uniform with blood
jabs and uppercuts below the gut
“who the f-ck you think you sucker punched?”
motherf-cker know w-ssup! he pushed me off him
i’m about to hand this fool his coffin
he about to slip and lose his conscience – hold on!
everybody on the yard is gone, everybody parted son!
like the roaches late at night
when the guards rushed and broke the crazy fight
marinated with despise, the hate inside his eyes
did i win? did i lose? that’s up to you to decide
sent to the shu, deprived of food for the first few nights
watch yo’ mouf bruh!

[outro: c.o.]
welcome to solitary, dumb-ss! sweet dreams

- goodfella

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