i-songtexte.com | Songtext/Lyric So What'cha Want von Beastie-Boys
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Beastie Boys
So What'cha Want
I Probably Got A Half A Buck... Yes But You Walk The Hip...
Hee Ha Ha Ha... You Dont Stop, You keep On Yea You Dont Stop You Cant Front All That To The S.K.V., You Dont Stop Whooo...
Well Just Plug Me In Just Like I Was Eddie Harris Youre Eating Crazy Cheese Like Youd Think Im From Paris You Know I Get Fly You Think I Get High You Know That Im Gone And Im A Tell You All Why So Tell Me Who Are You Dissing Maybe Im Missing The Reason That Youre Smiling or Wilding So Listen In My Head I Just Want To Take em Down Imagination Set Loose And Im Gonna Shake em Down Let It Flow Like A Mud Slide When I Get On I Like To Ride And Glide Ive Got Depth Of Perception In My Text Yall I Get Props At My Mention Cause I Vex YAll
So Whatcha Whatcha Whatcha Want I So Funny With The Money That You Flaunt I Said Whered You Get Your Information From Huh You Think That You Can Front When Revelation Comes Yea You Cant Front On That
Well They Call Me Mike D The Ever Loving Man Im Like Spoonie Gee Im The Metropolitician You Scream And You Holler About My Chevy Impala But The Sweat Is Getting Wet Around The Ring Around Your Collar But Like A Dream Im Flowing Without No Stopping Sweeter Than A Cherry Pie With Ready Whip Topping Goin From Mic To Mic Kickin It Wall To Wall Well Ill Be Calling Out You People Like A Casting Call Its Wack When Youre Jacked In The Back Of A Ride With Your Know With Your Flow When Youre Out Getting By Believe Me What You See Is What You Get And You See Me Im Coming Off As You Can Bet I Think Im Losing My Mind This Time This Time Im Losing My Mind Thats Right Said I Think Im Losing My Mind This Time, This Time, Im Lossing My Mind... Yea You Cant Front On That But Little Do You Know About Something That I Talk About Im Tired Of Driving Its Due Time That I Walk About But In The Meantime, Im Wise To The Demise Ive Got Eyes In The Back Of My Head So I Realize Well Im Dr. Spock Im Here To Rock YAll I Want You Off The Wall If Youre Playing The Wall
I Said Whatcha Whatcha Whatcha Want A Whatcha Want I Said Whatcha Whatcha Whatcha Want A Whatcha Want
YAll Suckers Write Me Checks And Then They Bounce So I Reach In My Pocket For The Fresh Amount See Im The Long Leaner Victor The Cleaner Im The Illest Motherfucker From Here To Gardena Im As Cool As A Cucumber In A Bowl Of Hot Sauce Youve Got The Rhyme And Reason But No Cause Well If Youre Hot To Trot You Think Youre Slicker Than Grease Ive Got News For Your Crew Youll Be Sucking Like A Leach Yea You Cant Front On That
So Whatcha Whatcha Whatcha Want So Whatcha Want So Whatcha Whatcha Whatcha Want Whatcha Want I Said Whatcha Whatcha Whatcha Want So Whatcha Want So Whatcha Whatcha Whatcha Want So Whatcha Want
Ive Got The Big Brown Boots When You Wanna Get Kicked Like A Rhyme From The Heart And The Mind There Was A Time When The Front Got Licked I Took A Hit Off The Green Then Blew A Smoke Screen No Visine, Just A Little Afro-Sheen And A High Times Magizine Id Like To Smoke Yall But The Pig Come Sweatin They Like The Smell Of The Weed Im Smokin They Cant Have None Of The Number One Sus Stash So Keep Your Hands Off The Hash And Dont Act Rash Cause If You Move Too Fast Ill Pull Out My Gat And Blast Your Sorry Ass A You Can Kiss My Ass Its The M. To The I. To The K. to the E. To The D. Yall
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