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Nutin Ta Lose

Dred Scott
Popularity ยท Low
๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง English ยท Original

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Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Check it out y'all Check it out y'all Check it out ya'll Dred Scott in the house, one time ya'll To the beat that makes you move Coolin out with the funk, uh, with the tree trunk Funk, that makes you wanna move, yeahhh Coolin in the ice pick, stuck in your head Super fly can't recruit, is what pops once said Speak soft, and keep your big sticks wrapped for the honeys scrubbin They all say they ain't money grubbin Stay above the cloud for the sheer love of rap Comin' off like the cop, cause stolen up caps Move like Huggy Bear with my kung-fu grip Wreckin' companies that didn't dig the Dred, was equipped to make Do without a gimmick I had to have a crew with this or that, or my take Bump the avenue, my etiquette Said, get a brick, bash the fools Empty out the register, I took your cash and juice And put my own record out, b of course you know Start my own camp fire, like course parole I did rough to the third power, afro starler Of the ancestor from never stink a dollar Yo, i've been fired, by my man Mr.Slank Like a metal gym-hat, yo the kid don't break And even if I'm in the third quarter, down by 40, I'ma cruise I got Nutin' Ta Lose Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Back on point, I got some more flavor for ya Pervertery boots, rather than Tom Sawyer I kill black seeds, I'm thinkin he's a godfather Sinkin' more simps than the Japanese at Pearl Harbor Funk faith dealer Black Jack card dealer 21, I rush the hun, like a Pittsburg stealer Never dope, like a broke, smoke that tec Sweet miss gingerbread Yeah, the Dred respects ya Says you was down and never call back And now I'm paranoid like a black politician on crack But no I never fuck when it comes to funk Cause no tellin who it starts with, the watermelon tuck You're a tucka-duck season, testin me, see ones For the sucka-burgers, that you're packin like re-run Skinny-skirt Lily, you claim to be loyal Like the flip side of Popeye, I don't follow boils Skinny ass One-Hundred dip shop, so we stirrin up Make my arm strong like Louis Only break I ever got, was the dope fractional Lookiee heree, everybody do the Dred Scott Boogie Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Yeah Uh yes-yes y'all Uh yes-yes y'all Uh yes-yes y'all Uh yes-yes y'all Uh yes-yes y'all Uh yes-yes y'all Uh yes-yes y'all Uh yes-yes y'all Hah! For your pleasure For the underground, like some fuckin buried treasure Pickin up the mic, like a shovel, can you dig it? And if you don't wanna pay, fair, here's ya ticket Barber of some milf-Cadillac, that is Loot the big head, coolin with the fat wizz See the sucka talkin, I pull a 40, dig me? Got fucked up, like the alcoholic kidney Now its a scene, in your membrane, swollen and yo comin up Shorter than your man Gary Colman The pop-rap mugger My beat stay healthy Louis-Vill Slugga, with the bags in my belt-free Yeah the underdog is about to run a muck And if you parkin in my zone, I'ma play the tow truck Did you think I didn't have enough to pull ya over Your convertible, gremlin, just got towed By the one and only, that you said wouldn't have a chance Like Elvis, trapped up in the James Brown avalanche And like to run away, slave, gettin' headed with no shoes Yo, I got Nutin' Ta Lose So, check it out ya'll Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah) Uh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose (Yeah,Yeah,Yeah) Oh, Dred Scott ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose Oh, Disco ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose Oh, Dominoes ain't got Nutin' Ta Lose Oh, Martin Luther didn't have Nutin' Ta Lose Oh, Malcom X didn't have Nutin' Ta Lose Unemployed brothas got Nutin' Ta Lose Everybody in the world, yo you got Nutin' To Lose So you gotta pay your dues