Gutta Gorillaz lyrics

Hey...

[Chamillionaire]
Bad is how I kick n*gga no way, that little ass pager is so gay
My 2-way way too big to be a 2-way, it's a 4-way
Ask me who the hardest rapper n*gga, you know who I'm gon say
I'ma say ay-ay-ay, like JT Money and Sole
Koopa don't pay for the four play, you tell her how much that you gon pay
You must be kin to oranthol, cause you a Simpson like you OJ
OJ throwback no way, the OJ throwback I throw away
Too many n*ggas dress alike, I ain't trying to be you for the whole day
Look like a 2 Fast 2 Furious clip, on a tow away
It look like I'm riding backwards, rims spinning the wrong way
See that Fake-ob I mean Jacob on your arm, n*gga no way
That ain't authentic, we know what it is but I won't say
Wanna know if my pockets fat, and how much do my do' weigh
A question like that, will get a chick kicked through the do' way
I don't give no do' away, get out she gon obey
She gon take the coat from a Lil' Jon song and say, (okaaay)
Gutta gorilla, mayn I ain't no Holly
Wood industry ass n*gga no, they don't call me
On the phone like they wanna bone, cause they know prolly
The chick I'm with gotta have a upgrade, and a J-Lo body
My princess cuts why the slugs, look kinda like lightening bugs
Rims double the size of dubs, they standing as high as us
Koopa don't keep a strap scratch that, cause he prolly does
Keep a heater with extra slugs, in a clip in his Ivy dubs
For a minute, Nappy Roots had a whole movement by being po'
Through that movement I was moving units, they must of been moving slow
True I'm on the radio, but I prove I'm streeter than Greg
Flip the microphone off the stand, and you'll get beat in the head
(*talking*)
Yeah, my solo album Controversy Sells
Drops in November, on the same day as Paul Wall's
"People's Champ" solo album, Color Changin' Click-clack

[Rasaq]
Aw suckering-suckatash, who's that coming up on that cash
Screens go z-z, when I push a button up on the dash
But a weapon up on my ass, do dirt like what's under grass
Two shirts might have something stashed, you j*rk if something flash
You move if something blast, you hurt and on your ass
You cursing when I pass, I'm swerving in a slab
It's Rasaq on the block, in a drop with no top
With a bottle with no top, and a model with no top
And I'm going to the spot, where n*ggas is losing
Put the clip up to you spit it, and let it rip through your FUBU
Dog I know cats that'll break you, in a kitten caboodle's
In a range for a funeral, for the n*ggas who knew you
I'm in the hood in the hallway, where there's p*ssing and doo-doo
And the fiends creeping at night, and come up twitching up to you
I recycle what I see in the hood, and deliver it to you
With n*ggas is coo-coo, hang with a few loose screws
Or when I'm flipping in hoo-doo's, sitting on two-two's
Listening to new Screw, jewelry is glistening and too blue
And I'm chilling with your new boo, I ain't forced her in the whip
Got her talking so much, I told her to put a cork in it
Like Sammy Sosa's bat, leave your mammy with a swollen back
These tracks on a broke mattress, a couple of bones is cracked
And I'm gone no coming back, no hugging no rubbing backs
I'm thugging and loving stacks, n*gga how you loving that
I bring it to you
I bring it to you
I bring it to you