Sayin' Somethin' Lyrics
| Song | Sayin' Somethin' |
| Artist | Ed O.G |
| Album | The Truth Hurts |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Anderson, Martin | |
| Yeah yeah, Ed O.G. | |
| Two-thousand, Primo | |
| Yeah, niggaz claim they runnin this house | |
| they just runnin they mouth | |
| You ain't sayin nuttin | |
| (Verse One) | |
| Yo.. | |
| If the opportunity was to present itself | |
| I might just have to go and reinvent myself | |
| Hook up a chick and advance, don't stick whenever the chance | |
| Sometimes I hit, most the time my dick in my pants | |
| It's on dogs, put your life on pause/paws | |
| Get heads wrapped up in bras and drawers, fightin a lost cause | |
| We break laws, give gauze when we break jaws | |
| Findin flaws in stars and keep the even with the odds | |
| In head-nods, from Spanish red-head broads | |
| And stay Trump tight, with the cards | |
| Went from a meter to a yard, livin my life scarred | |
| Cause every minority grow up hard | |
| Blow up hard, illin get you banned and barred | |
| Soon as you start sleepin catchin you off guard | |
| The very thing, is a 'Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| (Chorus: DJ Premier scratches) | |
| "Boston niggaz don't play.." ".. live and direct son" | |
| "The crew is sayin somethin.." ".. you know the deal" | |
| (Verse Two) | |
| Will them dogs that smoke blunts witchu, throw a punch witchu | |
| or hold it down when you down and the mutts hitchu? | |
| We all got tools -- I hate tellin good people bad news | |
| Everybody livin by they own rules | |
| Niggaz make me so sick I get nauseous | |
| When I'm in the streets I always remain cautious | |
| You can get rolled up, like a ounce in some Garcias | |
| Compare my accomplishments, to my losses | |
| Everybody wanna wonder what the winner does | |
| On my worst day now, it was better than it was | |
| Cause money kept, is twice as good as money burned | |
| And money won, is twice as sweet as money earned | |
| Will there ever come a time, when the cryin ends? | |
| Cause death is just a moment when the dyin ends | |
| The very thing, is a 'Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Verse Three) | |
| Alcohol and weed is my vices | |
| to see my daughter smile is priceless | |
| I leave the nicest lifeless | |
| Return like Christ in a crisis | |
| Take this +American Pie+, and distribute out slices | |
| Like enterprisers, who take it to the wire | |
| And shine so bright, niggas need a sun visor | |
| MC's search the seven seas and wind up fishin | |
| There's little to no competition | |
| when I appear like an abberition | |
| Your repitition, kept you in the same tradition, same position | |
| Same ol' rapper, same ol' mission, the game won't listen | |
| We got two thousand new ways, to shine and glisten | |
| Ed O.G. is to rap, what Pedro is to pitchin | |
| Nowadays if you dissin, you could wind up missin | |
| But if you ain't under God, you goin under hard | |
| And we gon' be the main event and y'all are undercard | |
| The very thing, is a 'Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| (Chorus) |
| zuo qu : Anderson, Martin | |
| Yeah yeah, Ed O. G. | |
| Twothousand, Primo | |
| Yeah, niggaz claim they runnin this house | |
| they just runnin they mouth | |
| You ain' t sayin nuttin | |
| Verse One | |
| Yo.. | |
| If the opportunity was to present itself | |
| I might just have to go and reinvent myself | |
| Hook up a chick and advance, don' t stick whenever the chance | |
| Sometimes I hit, most the time my dick in my pants | |
| It' s on dogs, put your life on pause paws | |
| Get heads wrapped up in bras and drawers, fightin a lost cause | |
| We break laws, give gauze when we break jaws | |
| Findin flaws in stars and keep the even with the odds | |
| In headnods, from Spanish redhead broads | |
| And stay Trump tight, with the cards | |
| Went from a meter to a yard, livin my life scarred | |
| Cause every minority grow up hard | |
| Blow up hard, illin get you banned and barred | |
| Soon as you start sleepin catchin you off guard | |
| The very thing, is a ' Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| Chorus: DJ Premier scratches | |
| " Boston niggaz don' t play.." ".. live and direct son" | |
| " The crew is sayin somethin.." ".. you know the deal" | |
| Verse Two | |
| Will them dogs that smoke blunts witchu, throw a punch witchu | |
| or hold it down when you down and the mutts hitchu? | |
| We all got tools I hate tellin good people bad news | |
| Everybody livin by they own rules | |
| Niggaz make me so sick I get nauseous | |
| When I' m in the streets I always remain cautious | |
| You can get rolled up, like a ounce in some Garcias | |
| Compare my accomplishments, to my losses | |
| Everybody wanna wonder what the winner does | |
| On my worst day now, it was better than it was | |
| Cause money kept, is twice as good as money burned | |
| And money won, is twice as sweet as money earned | |
| Will there ever come a time, when the cryin ends? | |
| Cause death is just a moment when the dyin ends | |
| The very thing, is a ' Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse Three | |
| Alcohol and weed is my vices | |
| to see my daughter smile is priceless | |
| I leave the nicest lifeless | |
| Return like Christ in a crisis | |
| Take this American Pie, and distribute out slices | |
| Like enterprisers, who take it to the wire | |
| And shine so bright, niggas need a sun visor | |
| MC' s search the seven seas and wind up fishin | |
| There' s little to no competition | |
| when I appear like an abberition | |
| Your repitition, kept you in the same tradition, same position | |
| Same ol' rapper, same ol' mission, the game won' t listen | |
| We got two thousand new ways, to shine and glisten | |
| Ed O. G. is to rap, what Pedro is to pitchin | |
| Nowadays if you dissin, you could wind up missin | |
| But if you ain' t under God, you goin under hard | |
| And we gon' be the main event and y' all are undercard | |
| The very thing, is a ' Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Anderson, Martin | |
| Yeah yeah, Ed O. G. | |
| Twothousand, Primo | |
| Yeah, niggaz claim they runnin this house | |
| they just runnin they mouth | |
| You ain' t sayin nuttin | |
| Verse One | |
| Yo.. | |
| If the opportunity was to present itself | |
| I might just have to go and reinvent myself | |
| Hook up a chick and advance, don' t stick whenever the chance | |
| Sometimes I hit, most the time my dick in my pants | |
| It' s on dogs, put your life on pause paws | |
| Get heads wrapped up in bras and drawers, fightin a lost cause | |
| We break laws, give gauze when we break jaws | |
| Findin flaws in stars and keep the even with the odds | |
| In headnods, from Spanish redhead broads | |
| And stay Trump tight, with the cards | |
| Went from a meter to a yard, livin my life scarred | |
| Cause every minority grow up hard | |
| Blow up hard, illin get you banned and barred | |
| Soon as you start sleepin catchin you off guard | |
| The very thing, is a ' Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| Chorus: DJ Premier scratches | |
| " Boston niggaz don' t play.." ".. live and direct son" | |
| " The crew is sayin somethin.." ".. you know the deal" | |
| Verse Two | |
| Will them dogs that smoke blunts witchu, throw a punch witchu | |
| or hold it down when you down and the mutts hitchu? | |
| We all got tools I hate tellin good people bad news | |
| Everybody livin by they own rules | |
| Niggaz make me so sick I get nauseous | |
| When I' m in the streets I always remain cautious | |
| You can get rolled up, like a ounce in some Garcias | |
| Compare my accomplishments, to my losses | |
| Everybody wanna wonder what the winner does | |
| On my worst day now, it was better than it was | |
| Cause money kept, is twice as good as money burned | |
| And money won, is twice as sweet as money earned | |
| Will there ever come a time, when the cryin ends? | |
| Cause death is just a moment when the dyin ends | |
| The very thing, is a ' Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse Three | |
| Alcohol and weed is my vices | |
| to see my daughter smile is priceless | |
| I leave the nicest lifeless | |
| Return like Christ in a crisis | |
| Take this American Pie, and distribute out slices | |
| Like enterprisers, who take it to the wire | |
| And shine so bright, niggas need a sun visor | |
| MC' s search the seven seas and wind up fishin | |
| There' s little to no competition | |
| when I appear like an abberition | |
| Your repitition, kept you in the same tradition, same position | |
| Same ol' rapper, same ol' mission, the game won' t listen | |
| We got two thousand new ways, to shine and glisten | |
| Ed O. G. is to rap, what Pedro is to pitchin | |
| Nowadays if you dissin, you could wind up missin | |
| But if you ain' t under God, you goin under hard | |
| And we gon' be the main event and y' all are undercard | |
| The very thing, is a ' Bury thing | |
| Either everything is workin, or you workin for everything | |
| Chorus |
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