Blu - Funky Cowboy Meets the Funky Drummer lyrics

I run my sh** up at the clean hand shops off of slauson Flossing like my other than it reign supreme Crown fitted Why would they think I wouldn't when I'm in it like John Wooden with the cushion with the lean Bout, one eighty, bout it like I bop a n***a bobble like, Bobby Knight Mac Dowel type, ughh You Donald, it's duck season I'm hollow and buck often And f** fallen off, I f** often Caught him in deep thought tonguing, down a gold tooth Old spice with the pro tool vocals The old school with the home phone The old post kept the hoes loose Now I run my sh** up on the world I run my sh** up on the world, world world I run sh** up at the clean hand shops off of slauson Flossing like my other than it reign supreme And still boss Why would they think I wasn't if I wasn't f** it, still buzzing tilt Douglas on the sauce It cost, one fifty to floss in one city for me Cause when you folks it's a different fee I'm either seen with the clappers The children of Black Panthers, the queens The pink panties, black b**hes on the scene I mean, I never asked if you thought I was a wild boy Sick with it, let my style poise ughh n***as had to get up out of Illinois Since a seen I was shy(chi) boy Now I run my sh** up on the world I run my sh** up on the world, world, world Ayo my money long, buddy long, but he slim Uh, the ghetto's right under that bu*ter leather, but it's him, once again Slim with the grin, tilted brim, spinning hubcaps Ughh, f** that, sh**ty bus paths I crack a flask on that a** off a BMX Yup, this a** tires, letting my chains flare yea, gold b**h it's always gold Play the welfare, chill chick I'm on a cell phone! Cool kid, I'm on a bike b**h! Swoop a n***a for a have to cruger n***as sh** is dead b**hes fled from the verse they rather give him head 83, black and soul pa** electro gold My sh** shine b**h it's always gold f** a shiny suit, still giving shiners Don't blind'm, clothes linen The whole city behind him, ayw!