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sandpeople - whistle lyrics
[verse 1: onlyone]
cats like you and me are crisscrossed
i was driving down to cali, with ross, listening to rick ross
i used to dish wash
now i’m trying to get illegal chips washed
never scared like chris rock
cause while y’all was marketing these f-cking clowns
i was doing dirt, harvesting a hundred pounds
destiny’s child want a solider, is that a fact?
why don’t you send those b-tches over to iraq?
see, i don’t act perky for money
y’all girly and grubby, fergie is ugly
i’ll say what i want
i spit what’s sick as f-ck, inconspicuous
y’all know why we don’t drive with drugs in the front
the trunk in the ‘lac’s deep
don’t take it literally, i still get away with it in the backseat
with or with no tires
they ain’t got me on no wire
cause they ain’t got me with no priors
i never put myself in situations that be sketchy as f-ck
that’s why you’ll never catch me in cuffs
holla
[verse 2: onlyone]
i be mix master spits
i split rappers’ wigs
should i work hard so the gov could get half my chips?
f-ck it, i should just traffic bricks
but then again, f-ck that, i can’t give crack to kids
homie had methods to get cash and quick
kick the door down, rob who lives at the crib
should i get gats and stick?
when the victim’s so poor they ain’t even have nothing to give cats that did
if you chit-chat with pigs, my fist crack your ribs
you get smashed, like the ‘lac when sis crashed the whip
i ain’t never met a chick bad as this
she tried to crack the whip like a b-tch -ss and dipped
i call up mommy like i’m thick at the hips
tell her i got company to fix mac some grits
in reality, the big fact is this
the kid came with only one thing to hit, that’s his licks
[verse 3: onlyone]
it’s amusing to see what i loosely do to these verses
as you can see, the eulogy’s usually brutally perfect
humanly urges has me loony, looting two or three purses
and you can be murdered, but i don’t think your jewelry’s worth it
and if i owned a street sweeper, you would be nervous
cause i would sweep your whole street like community service
me and my bredren are musically servants
sh-t, we give a f-ck ’bout what you frugally purchase
yea
and i ain’t get all wet
ain’t been in no car wrecks
but i ain’t scared and y’all fret like guitar necks
we rob for loochie, keep our toolies
in street fights we beef like the shi’ites and sunnis
so the next life around, give me the simple things
50 of simple’s beats, digis, and triple beams
yea
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