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Gutta Butta

Yo we gon do it like this

Straight out the parts. . . that they disregard

Never considered . . . ok

Now don't get mad nigga get glad

Goodie got them brand new trash bags . . dag

And they know where to dump that ass

In the chair

The hoochie river with the rest of the kids

That did business outside la familians

Gettin ya touched

Down the cut

Blunts roastin whole through tea bags

Blowin bubbles out the wrong end

Mud in your stool piles

Flamin hotter than Dust Valley

The gateway to where ever your sick tickle desire

The gangsters of this other century

Transforming hustlers and players into sissies

So slim goodie

You don't want no drug boy

He'll leave you barefooted and pregnant

Don't get too comfortable

You ain't gon be here too long

G's get locked up and die (clean)

Most lie in they own surreal home

Trust the tree on the map

This one individual thought he was the Grim Reaper

Swole, couldn't nobody put a finger on his naps

Now he up under the bridge stankin

In his birthday suit

Used to always holler about how he was gon do a brother (get him!)

Beat him to the punch-line, one ?

Being forced into early retirement at the age of 26

Palms feel like bricks - peeling from distributing crack

Crumb snatchers and goo-gobblers struggle

To stay on top of sand dunes

Cause mouths born with silver spoons

Make your bed you gotta sleep in it

But stakes made

Baking soda kept the knees clean

Narrow like a ravine

? fell good news

Last hole, green jacket worn, body in two

Left by oh-no

Soul been gone, disappeared like the dune

Once the temperature rise

But I'm with my Lawd (lord)

?Please grits, still ship

Half the pipes are gettin sold out convienience stores

Where ya at now?

Comming around trying to sniff out sounds

Well rounded kept you strictly grounded for your ear

The dogs are gettin closer to the ? now can you hear?

I smell fear and even if your eyes was closed

Your ass couldn't catch your tear

Lies, straws, mirrors and plates

Nicks, dimes, fifties, and cakes

Why can't I escape

These lies, straw, mirrors and plates?

In the land of jacks I got my acts over the tracks with stacks

Upon the map in the vault

Where this cat's trying to sniff me out

I'm in the southwest woods working all about

Paper capers, never hurt them brothers to obtain

If I can't refrain cause some of these niggaz snortin cain

And really don't know which way to go

Confused, you'll abuse anybody for a fix

Hits go for ten bucks, go for 20 and they good and plenty

Fat baggies like ?Maggies? muffin

Where the kid do the stuffin

Silly of these young niggaz watching me

As I turn figures into solitare

Twirl up my hair (down south)

Pray to God I don’t have to do him

Like I never knew or had no clue to who you was

Cuz, face to face with a scar engraved upon his left cheek

So to speak, ? like a icon when it was done to approach my mosse

Be on that Rossie like The Click

So I stay ready for combat and watch the rich get rich off it


Nigga I ain't shit, I just know how to rhyme a little bit

Nigga please, I'm still trying to squeeze my fat ass in where I fit

Now I got a little dough, but it ain't that much mo

than every other nigga I know

We all still po

I don't sell dope (what you doin?)

I sell hope

You wanna size me up my nigga then wear a scope

Cause you gon see me on MLK and on T.V.

I ain't got no fear, my nigga I was born to wait right here

Late one night I was in a pearl white Acura Legendary

I got that thang with me cause it's necessary

Shit, I was just ridin

Wasn't even thinking‘bout collidin

But I kept seeing the same headlights running stop signs and red lights

I don't prepared myself to die if it's my time to go

He said "you know what it is, you done seen it before"

This sad, of course I'ma be mad

Well here you can have it god damnit if you want it that bad

You would try to take from me, my nigga I ain't no star

I value both of our lives more than this car

You lucky nigga, I used to be you

Shit and I'd bust a hole in your chest somebody could see through

Now remember, shit, you could've died tonight

And I would've been in the right

I ain't even pissed you could just drop me off at the house

Cause I ain't really dying by nothin like this


Everythang cool my nigga, you could just drop me off at the house


Gutta Butta /

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