Give It To You (with G. Love) - Jack Johnson LRC歌词
[al:Deeper Than Rap]
[00:01.12]Rick Ross - Mafia Music
[00:05.13] @ 活在當下 制作
[00:11.61]I got a feelin nigga wit it (?) and my money be da root.
[00:14.84]Look up at da stars, she like \"Honey where da roof?\"
[00:17.85]Pull up in a Dawes (?), canaries (?) dey go on roof,
[00:20.70]Even once had a job pourin tar up on da roof.
[00:23.77]Dat boy had it hard, no facade it's da truth,
[00:26.68]So now when I menage and get massaged it's da proof.
[00:29.73]Proof's in da pudding and dat bakin soda taken,
[00:32.55]Paper dat I'm makin, gotta take dem photos naked.
[00:35.88]Listenin to niggas like whistlin dat Wendy Williams,
[00:38.83]I flip my middle finga, I'm chillin on twenty million.
[00:41.80]Da rumors turn me on I'm masterbatin at da top,
[00:44.80]These hoes so excited so dey catchin every drop.
[00:47.75]I'm dodgin debacles like pot holes in Jamaica,
[00:50.76]We cut down the weed, bury the paper on dem acres.
[00:53.85]Martin had a dream, Bob got high,
[00:56.80]I still do both but somehow I got by.
[00:59.87]Preflo prayed, Mike Vick payed,
[01:02.81]Bobby Brown strayed, Whitney lost weight.
[01:05.86]Kimbo Slice on da pad when I write,
[01:08.73]Dat may why the money lookin funny in the light.
[01:11.80]But who really cares? You just throw it in the air,
[01:14.84]Celebratin wealth, pourin Mo?t in her hair-
[01:17.76]Excuse me, her weeve- the bluest of weed,
[01:20.80]Trunk full of white, car smell like bleu cheese.
[01:23.82]Dat boy get salad (?), beef bout movements,
[01:26.86]BM dubs on dem big thangs lookin foolish.
[01:29.95]Shawty sittin low, big thangs poppin,
[01:32.83]Tip on da glock from a trip up in Compton.
[01:35.86]Shootin at da cops- fuck one time.
[01:38.78]I gave her to da block, I fucked one time.
[01:41.79]We boys in da hood and nigga you Lil' Trey,
[01:44.69]Suppress ya appetite, we takin ya lil' tray.
[01:47.89]Love my handgun but my choppa still da shit,
[01:50.67]Banned in 1994 but I'm too legit to quit.
[01:53.87]1996, kilos was the shit,
[01:56.67]But dat were better den roofin dat shit be bad for ya skin.
[01:59.98]Niggas was ruthless, lord knows dat I sinned,
[02:02.71]But I thought about my future and the loops I could pin.
[02:05.80]Walked out on a gig and I turned to da streets,
[02:08.77]Kept my name low key, I ain't heard from in weeks.
[02:11.78]I came up with a strategy to come up mathematically,
[02:14.96]I did it for da city but now everybody mad at me.
[02:17.95]Mothafuck em all, they sweat from my balls,
[02:20.74]If I drop anotha album I did dat fo my dawgs.
[02:23.96]10 Maybachs, everybody ridin big,
[02:26.85]I just sit back like: Look what I did.
[02:29.90]Den I bow my head and beg for forgiveness,
[02:32.90]Once I said my prayer, everybody back to business.
[02:36.06]Smokin on a blunt in my own restaurant,
[02:38.58]People lookin from a distance think I'm Big Daddy Kunk,
[02:41.90]Reincarnated, spirit of a G.
[02:44.75]Beef? I'll make u dinner, take a seat so we could eat.
[02:47.75]A Farrakhan aura, paws on the Port,
[02:50.82]You eat from da bowl while ya dog need a fork.
[02:53.84]Niggas ain't loyal, snakes slithered in dey coil,
[02:56.71]I'm laughin at you cuz, kill you niggas when I'm bored.
[02:59.89]We steppin on ya crew til the mothafuckas crushed,
[03:02.85]And makin sweet love to every women dat ya lust.
[03:05.78]I love to pay her bills, can't wait to pay her rent,
[03:08.71]Curtis Jackson baby mama ain't askin for a cent.
[03:11.84]Burn the house down, we gotta buy another,
[03:14.74]Don't forget the gas can, jealous, stupid muthafucka.
[03:17.87]To anotha chapter, paper dat I captured,
[03:20.85]Caught up in da rapture of gunshots and laughter.
[03:23.89]Homicide is human and nigga you lookin funny,
[03:26.82]Women love to stare cause dey know dey see da money.
[03:29.86]I open up a mind by openin bank accounts,
[03:32.79]Deposit a 100 stacks, break up or take it out.
[03:35.80]Baby dats a gift, maybe you could live,
[03:38.85]I knew it wouldn't work, but I just like to give.
[03:42.06]Used to run da street- young nigga, bare feet,
[03:44.81]Now I'm in da suites and I'm eatin crab meats.
[03:48.00]Ice so right, otha rappers envy,
[03:50.83]Dey callin all my jewelers up askin wat he spendin.
[03:53.78]Thinkin bout Boss, not thinkin bout dem,
[03:56.78]This a letter to my enemies, one I won't send.