Lyrics:
That's cool, we was never cool anyway
Ice cube on the pinkie and the middle finger
Lookin' like we won the Super Bowl anyway
Huh, look, DJ's say they
sandals on, bitch
Know what I'm sayin', with my tattoos on my toes too, by the way, know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, and I got blue cheese on me, all hundreds
Strawberry Blue
Written by Phil Arnold.
her throat now she giving me neck
feel like DJ Moore Georgia boy pull out TEC's (Tech)
Boy steady dissin' and sendin' me threats I don't give a fuck
I feel lonely, lololololonely
You're the one and only
That makes me feel so blue
I feel lonely, lololololonely
You're the one and only
That
I just walked up in the stew and dadda BK hopped inside the booth
C-Rap wrote a Zimmy, got to dancin' and it's Jimmy Choo
DJ in the back, he
Jordan
By 23 started I living like a juggernaut
By 45 I'll be getting royal top in Camelot
I'm no DJ Unk but I could damn sure walk it out
You gone face
Yeah baby baby no more
27 février dans les bacs you know
Tu kiffes Fababy? T'es qu'un suceur
Aux platines: DJ Battle
Viens pas nous tester si t'as
skin tone vanilla, two scoops of chilling.
Ciroc Blue Ice
Anything you do, I do twice
What you do, I don?t do like you
No one on the planet, nobody
Watchin' Half Baked,
At the cabin by the Lake.
See the blue and white plates,
See the wood on the panel.
I may be Chanel Oat, Chilly O, Flannel Coat .
shoes, thousands in the air
Boat cruise pond the river
White ghost driver, blue dot sippa'
Baby girl nice take you on a trip
Around the world twice paid
the worst of porcupine
If you tryin to take mine
Yo, pick up my nigga Splif
In the blue 5S's
Sporting out tan, interior blue head restses
Move, baby no
packed it's a mad house
Catch you slippin' by yourself and get you assed out
And homie that's word, my niggas gon' lurk
See that red and blue I'm
(Chorus: Scratched by DJ Unknown)
Tired of the mother fucking jackin
Boys that be jackin
Tired of the motherfucking jackin
Police, want to front;
I'm gonna write a little letter,
Gonna mail it to my local DJ.
It's a rockin' rhythm record
I want my jockey to play.
Roll Over Beethoven, I gotta
Back by popular demand
Dope pound gangsta feel
Want a real DJ, with a OGA
A bitch is a bitch, whether she poor or rich
She still gettin' a gang
Gonna write a little letter, gonna mail it to my local D.J.
It's a jumping little record I want my jockey to play
Roll Over Beethoven
Gotta hear
DISCO DISCO
(Written/produced/performed by GROOVE STATE)
Blue disco, red disco,
Pink disco, disco disco, disco disco
Blue disco, red disco,
Pink
Well, I'ma write this letter
Gonna mail it to my local DJ
It's the jamminest record
I want my jockey to play
Roll over Beethoven, I gotta hear
now you don’t want nobody else
Know I’m all on my own
Fine by myself, I don’t need nobody else, I’m Good
All on my own
Fine by myself, I don’t need
down and holla
If you tipsy stand up
DJ, turn it louder
Take somebody by the waist and uh
Now throw it in they face like uh
Hypnotic, robotic, this
by and lose in tone, keen, unquantized, j dilla'd
as valvedrum, screw'd, dj'd, trade blue mud in whorl
gone blue, all gone off in all this infinite
down and holla
If you tipsy stand up
DJ, turn it louder
Take somebody by the waist and uh
Now throw it in they face like uh
Hypnotic, robotic, this
smoking on sum gas you niggas puffin' boof
Yeah you know we counting up the muhfuckin blues
Fuck these bitches they come by twos
Niggas stepping on you like
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