Song | Somethin' 'Bout the Goldie in Me |
Artist | MC Hammer |
Album | The Funky Headhunter |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Deuce Deuce, MC Hammer ... | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me | |
Somethin bout an oakland mack | |
When I hear this song | |
It makes an o.g. feel phat | |
[Verse 1; Hammer] | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me | |
That makes me laugh at these wannabes | |
Cause they been watchin too much tv | |
Rambo and clint eastwood got ya trippin | |
But the goldie in me, Keeps me thinkin bout my group and never slippin | |
In that played out tread, Cause most o.g.'s are in the pen or fresh out | |
And when I hear rappers like you call me wack | |
I laugh and just say over twenty million sold, Can you buy that? | |
Yeah, Fake rappers are surreal | |
You don't hear me though, I thought ya knew | |
I'm a certified player, You see | |
Cause of the girls, The girls, They love me | |
And no matter what my critics say | |
They all know that I'm mackin this fame | |
Cause fools can't recognize game | |
I refuse to be a wannabe | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me, Yeah | |
Chorus 2x | |
[Verse 2; Hammer] | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me, See I'm a g | |
Hangin wit fools like Big loose, Crossecuse, And killa week | |
Just some hard knunkleheads from the eastside | |
Where we used to squab, Shoot em down, Collect ends, And high side and rise | |
And get between thighs on the day to day | |
Craps, Big bank take little bank, Were games we like to play | |
Rollin down east 14, The brothers be trippin, They hear the cats be slippin | |
Cause the moves be quick to zippin | |
Pickin up freaks every other block, Wherever the ride stop | |
The girls flock, And all the homies jock, Sock | |
Bustas makin smart remarks, I'm quick to bust ya | |
Never worry about my back, Because I'm rollin wit some hustlas | |
And we don't sell, We bail | |
Creep through the hood wit pockets fatter than the goodyear blimp | |
Yeah, An oaktown player, G | |
It's got to be the goldie in me | |
Chorus 2x |
zuo ci : Deuce Deuce, MC Hammer ... | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me | |
Somethin bout an oakland mack | |
When I hear this song | |
It makes an o. g. feel phat | |
Verse 1 Hammer | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me | |
That makes me laugh at these wannabes | |
Cause they been watchin too much tv | |
Rambo and clint eastwood got ya trippin | |
But the goldie in me, Keeps me thinkin bout my group and never slippin | |
In that played out tread, Cause most o. g.' s are in the pen or fresh out | |
And when I hear rappers like you call me wack | |
I laugh and just say over twenty million sold, Can you buy that? | |
Yeah, Fake rappers are surreal | |
You don' t hear me though, I thought ya knew | |
I' m a certified player, You see | |
Cause of the girls, The girls, They love me | |
And no matter what my critics say | |
They all know that I' m mackin this fame | |
Cause fools can' t recognize game | |
I refuse to be a wannabe | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me, Yeah | |
Chorus 2x | |
Verse 2 Hammer | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me, See I' m a g | |
Hangin wit fools like Big loose, Crossecuse, And killa week | |
Just some hard knunkleheads from the eastside | |
Where we used to squab, Shoot em down, Collect ends, And high side and rise | |
And get between thighs on the day to day | |
Craps, Big bank take little bank, Were games we like to play | |
Rollin down east 14, The brothers be trippin, They hear the cats be slippin | |
Cause the moves be quick to zippin | |
Pickin up freaks every other block, Wherever the ride stop | |
The girls flock, And all the homies jock, Sock | |
Bustas makin smart remarks, I' m quick to bust ya | |
Never worry about my back, Because I' m rollin wit some hustlas | |
And we don' t sell, We bail | |
Creep through the hood wit pockets fatter than the goodyear blimp | |
Yeah, An oaktown player, G | |
It' s got to be the goldie in me | |
Chorus 2x |
zuò cí : Deuce Deuce, MC Hammer ... | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me | |
Somethin bout an oakland mack | |
When I hear this song | |
It makes an o. g. feel phat | |
Verse 1 Hammer | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me | |
That makes me laugh at these wannabes | |
Cause they been watchin too much tv | |
Rambo and clint eastwood got ya trippin | |
But the goldie in me, Keeps me thinkin bout my group and never slippin | |
In that played out tread, Cause most o. g.' s are in the pen or fresh out | |
And when I hear rappers like you call me wack | |
I laugh and just say over twenty million sold, Can you buy that? | |
Yeah, Fake rappers are surreal | |
You don' t hear me though, I thought ya knew | |
I' m a certified player, You see | |
Cause of the girls, The girls, They love me | |
And no matter what my critics say | |
They all know that I' m mackin this fame | |
Cause fools can' t recognize game | |
I refuse to be a wannabe | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me, Yeah | |
Chorus 2x | |
Verse 2 Hammer | |
Somethin bout the goldie in me, See I' m a g | |
Hangin wit fools like Big loose, Crossecuse, And killa week | |
Just some hard knunkleheads from the eastside | |
Where we used to squab, Shoot em down, Collect ends, And high side and rise | |
And get between thighs on the day to day | |
Craps, Big bank take little bank, Were games we like to play | |
Rollin down east 14, The brothers be trippin, They hear the cats be slippin | |
Cause the moves be quick to zippin | |
Pickin up freaks every other block, Wherever the ride stop | |
The girls flock, And all the homies jock, Sock | |
Bustas makin smart remarks, I' m quick to bust ya | |
Never worry about my back, Because I' m rollin wit some hustlas | |
And we don' t sell, We bail | |
Creep through the hood wit pockets fatter than the goodyear blimp | |
Yeah, An oaktown player, G | |
It' s got to be the goldie in me | |
Chorus 2x |