Goonies Lyrics
| Song | Goonies |
| Artist | JR Writer |
| Album | History in the Making |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Brito, Jones, Mohammed, Stokes | |
| It's the Dips, we can't fall off we are sick | |
| And keep ridin till the wheels fall off of this bitch | |
| Salute, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| If you get money like ain't shit funny | |
| And quick to tell a bitch she ain't getting shit from me | |
| Holla back, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| [J.R. Talks] | |
| Ok, Writer, (DipSet) Who ready? | |
| [Verse 1] | |
| Listen, This is natural, we're not compatible | |
| A hustler not a rapper dude, don't make me have to clap a few | |
| Wrap ya dude, Blat ya through | |
| Nigga, fuck a stash box, I got a box in the stash for you | |
| You aint a Goonie, yous a Looney Tooney | |
| I will use this Uzi to remove ya kufi | |
| Troops salute me, dude ya fruity | |
| Who's a groupie, and lucky that my shoes are Gucci (why) | |
| Cause I stomp creeps, I'm beyond beats | |
| Big war guns, check out my arm reach | |
| I'll get ya moms leaked (where) stretch out in Palm Beach | |
| Iffy till I put you underground then its concrete | |
| You stepping up there them hecklers'll flare | |
| Peter Rowe leave ya soul in a breathe full of air | |
| No body better this year (why) | |
| I'm in the zone, and it's like you goin bald, cause you'll never get here/hair | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Jim Jones Talks] | |
| Wooo (Jones) Wooo Wooo Wooo Wooo (Capo) (One-Eyed Willy) | |
| [Verse 2 Jim Jones] | |
| One-Eyed Willy, head of the Goonie-Goo-Goos (Capo) | |
| I'll put paper on ya head just like a su-su | |
| Blowin haze in the air out the moon roof | |
| While I'm racing, switchin gears in the new coupe | |
| So its nothing to 10-90 | |
| Peter Rowe you hop in the Benz do 90 | |
| I'll cop a new bed buck 90 (ballin) | |
| I'm on the block getting bent's where you find me | |
| I'm probably spittin out punka seeds | |
| 40's off Autobahn tell black dump the weed (we gotta get high) | |
| It's 600 for my Dungarees | |
| I'm on the corner getting blunted with a bunch of G's (Eastside) | |
| So ya life's but a bleep away | |
| Well I party at night where the Heat play (down in Miami) | |
| Until the cops sub do me (fuck it) | |
| I'm claimin DipSet ByrdGang we the Goonies (we the Goonies) | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Hell Rell Talks] | |
| Ok, Ruger Rell DipSet, (I got us Writer) I got us, Yo | |
| [Verse 3 Hell Rell] | |
| I'm the shit Mr. Doodoo, I'll holla wooo wooo | |
| Hundred niggaz hop out hoodied up like boom boom | |
| I got Goons on the payroll shorty | |
| And I don't tough shit, they move the yayo for me (they move that shit) | |
| Money machines count the pesos for me | |
| Shit on my neck, that's Range Rove money | |
| My jewelry starting to add up to cars my brother | |
| Magnum on one wrist, Charger on the other | |
| When I die my house gonna be a tourist attraction | |
| You serious that's the same chair Hell Rell sat in (you serious) | |
| You lyin, that's the same toilet Hell Rell crapped in (na you lyin) | |
| Mink carpets and he got it from rappin, ruger double action | |
| You wanna learn about some cain nigga talk to me | |
| You wanna know who own the city cruise New York wit me (DipSet) | |
| I bring the grittiest out (yeah) | |
| And if Rell in the building all the Goonies in the city come out (yeah) | |
| [Hook] |
| zuo qu : Brito, Jones, Mohammed, Stokes | |
| It' s the Dips, we can' t fall off we are sick | |
| And keep ridin till the wheels fall off of this bitch | |
| Salute, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| If you get money like ain' t shit funny | |
| And quick to tell a bitch she ain' t getting shit from me | |
| Holla back, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| J. R. Talks | |
| Ok, Writer, DipSet Who ready? | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Listen, This is natural, we' re not compatible | |
| A hustler not a rapper dude, don' t make me have to clap a few | |
| Wrap ya dude, Blat ya through | |
| Nigga, fuck a stash box, I got a box in the stash for you | |
| You aint a Goonie, yous a Looney Tooney | |
| I will use this Uzi to remove ya kufi | |
| Troops salute me, dude ya fruity | |
| Who' s a groupie, and lucky that my shoes are Gucci why | |
| Cause I stomp creeps, I' m beyond beats | |
| Big war guns, check out my arm reach | |
| I' ll get ya moms leaked where stretch out in Palm Beach | |
| Iffy till I put you underground then its concrete | |
| You stepping up there them hecklers' ll flare | |
| Peter Rowe leave ya soul in a breathe full of air | |
| No body better this year why | |
| I' m in the zone, and it' s like you goin bald, cause you' ll never get here hair | |
| Hook | |
| Jim Jones Talks | |
| Wooo Jones Wooo Wooo Wooo Wooo Capo OneEyed Willy | |
| Verse 2 Jim Jones | |
| OneEyed Willy, head of the GoonieGooGoos Capo | |
| I' ll put paper on ya head just like a susu | |
| Blowin haze in the air out the moon roof | |
| While I' m racing, switchin gears in the new coupe | |
| So its nothing to 1090 | |
| Peter Rowe you hop in the Benz do 90 | |
| I' ll cop a new bed buck 90 ballin | |
| I' m on the block getting bent' s where you find me | |
| I' m probably spittin out punka seeds | |
| 40' s off Autobahn tell black dump the weed we gotta get high | |
| It' s 600 for my Dungarees | |
| I' m on the corner getting blunted with a bunch of G' s Eastside | |
| So ya life' s but a bleep away | |
| Well I party at night where the Heat play down in Miami | |
| Until the cops sub do me fuck it | |
| I' m claimin DipSet ByrdGang we the Goonies we the Goonies | |
| Hook | |
| Hell Rell Talks | |
| Ok, Ruger Rell DipSet, I got us Writer I got us, Yo | |
| Verse 3 Hell Rell | |
| I' m the shit Mr. Doodoo, I' ll holla wooo wooo | |
| Hundred niggaz hop out hoodied up like boom boom | |
| I got Goons on the payroll shorty | |
| And I don' t tough shit, they move the yayo for me they move that shit | |
| Money machines count the pesos for me | |
| Shit on my neck, that' s Range Rove money | |
| My jewelry starting to add up to cars my brother | |
| Magnum on one wrist, Charger on the other | |
| When I die my house gonna be a tourist attraction | |
| You serious that' s the same chair Hell Rell sat in you serious | |
| You lyin, that' s the same toilet Hell Rell crapped in na you lyin | |
| Mink carpets and he got it from rappin, ruger double action | |
| You wanna learn about some cain nigga talk to me | |
| You wanna know who own the city cruise New York wit me DipSet | |
| I bring the grittiest out yeah | |
| And if Rell in the building all the Goonies in the city come out yeah | |
| Hook |
| zuò qǔ : Brito, Jones, Mohammed, Stokes | |
| It' s the Dips, we can' t fall off we are sick | |
| And keep ridin till the wheels fall off of this bitch | |
| Salute, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| If you get money like ain' t shit funny | |
| And quick to tell a bitch she ain' t getting shit from me | |
| Holla back, Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| Wooo Wooo, Wooo Wooo | |
| J. R. Talks | |
| Ok, Writer, DipSet Who ready? | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Listen, This is natural, we' re not compatible | |
| A hustler not a rapper dude, don' t make me have to clap a few | |
| Wrap ya dude, Blat ya through | |
| Nigga, fuck a stash box, I got a box in the stash for you | |
| You aint a Goonie, yous a Looney Tooney | |
| I will use this Uzi to remove ya kufi | |
| Troops salute me, dude ya fruity | |
| Who' s a groupie, and lucky that my shoes are Gucci why | |
| Cause I stomp creeps, I' m beyond beats | |
| Big war guns, check out my arm reach | |
| I' ll get ya moms leaked where stretch out in Palm Beach | |
| Iffy till I put you underground then its concrete | |
| You stepping up there them hecklers' ll flare | |
| Peter Rowe leave ya soul in a breathe full of air | |
| No body better this year why | |
| I' m in the zone, and it' s like you goin bald, cause you' ll never get here hair | |
| Hook | |
| Jim Jones Talks | |
| Wooo Jones Wooo Wooo Wooo Wooo Capo OneEyed Willy | |
| Verse 2 Jim Jones | |
| OneEyed Willy, head of the GoonieGooGoos Capo | |
| I' ll put paper on ya head just like a susu | |
| Blowin haze in the air out the moon roof | |
| While I' m racing, switchin gears in the new coupe | |
| So its nothing to 1090 | |
| Peter Rowe you hop in the Benz do 90 | |
| I' ll cop a new bed buck 90 ballin | |
| I' m on the block getting bent' s where you find me | |
| I' m probably spittin out punka seeds | |
| 40' s off Autobahn tell black dump the weed we gotta get high | |
| It' s 600 for my Dungarees | |
| I' m on the corner getting blunted with a bunch of G' s Eastside | |
| So ya life' s but a bleep away | |
| Well I party at night where the Heat play down in Miami | |
| Until the cops sub do me fuck it | |
| I' m claimin DipSet ByrdGang we the Goonies we the Goonies | |
| Hook | |
| Hell Rell Talks | |
| Ok, Ruger Rell DipSet, I got us Writer I got us, Yo | |
| Verse 3 Hell Rell | |
| I' m the shit Mr. Doodoo, I' ll holla wooo wooo | |
| Hundred niggaz hop out hoodied up like boom boom | |
| I got Goons on the payroll shorty | |
| And I don' t tough shit, they move the yayo for me they move that shit | |
| Money machines count the pesos for me | |
| Shit on my neck, that' s Range Rove money | |
| My jewelry starting to add up to cars my brother | |
| Magnum on one wrist, Charger on the other | |
| When I die my house gonna be a tourist attraction | |
| You serious that' s the same chair Hell Rell sat in you serious | |
| You lyin, that' s the same toilet Hell Rell crapped in na you lyin | |
| Mink carpets and he got it from rappin, ruger double action | |
| You wanna learn about some cain nigga talk to me | |
| You wanna know who own the city cruise New York wit me DipSet | |
| I bring the grittiest out yeah | |
| And if Rell in the building all the Goonies in the city come out yeah | |
| Hook |
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