Scott Cooley - Cooley's Rap lyrics

Published

0 116 0

Scott Cooley - Cooley's Rap lyrics

I like hard rock, and old-school rap, eminem's a clown and kid rock's a hack I like the Beastie Boys and Run DMC, Sugar Hill Gang's ahh-ighte wit me The name is Cooley, this here's my rap, I can ad lib cuz I'm all that uh huh Imperromptu jammin', off the top of my head, I'm the best rapper that isn't dead I remember way back in the day, when I was just a little man I had a red rubber hippity hop, went hoppin' round the basement land Just bouncin' around back and forth up and down and side to side Holdin' on to the handle in my own little world, felt like I could fly I was fly alright, and definitely fresh, not to mention def and dope word When my sister wanted to use it, I stone cold said nope I went hip to the hop, hop to the hip, I was hip to the hoppity most And I don't stop, but I'll drop you like your hot, I'm conceded, like to brag and boast Fully strapped, packin' the heat, slayin' s**a squirrels that I never did eat say what? Yo-yo, Duncan Imperial, purple, walkin' the dog, around the world in circles Scratchin' breakdown (turntablistic guitar pick scraped along acoustic guitar strings) Representin' GB, southside of Flint, grew up in da hills and I'll give you a hint Bling bling, had it goin' on, done my time, now I'm an ex-con oh no Wore Timberlands, Fila, and K-Swiss too, before anybody from the hood even knew I'm from the street, plantation drive, didn't have no slaves, didn't talk no jive Scratchin' records on my turntable, I didn't sweat the technique Slam dunkin' off the neighbors backboard, never had to leave my feet sweet Cold hoopin' it, out in the driveway, just a b-boy tryin' to score Goin' to the junior high dances at night, break dancin' out on the floor Then the dj would cool it down, I slow danced with all the fine cuties When the teachers weren't lookin, I was gettin' some tongue, an grabbin' me some bootys Gittin' jiggy, don't know why, all I can say is I musta been high whoa When I wasn't chillin', I was bustin' a rhyme, either that or perpetratin' a crime I only smoke chronic, drink Tanqueray and tonic, keepin' it on the down low Cooley's in da hizzouse, kickin' freestyle, Dort highway cruise, holla at a ho Scratchin' breakdown (turntablistic guitar pick scraped along acoustic guitar strings) Homeboys in the Nova, posse in effect, drove that car till it was totally wrecked my bad Pimp my ride, I think not, didn't need to be down wit no cops They stole my stash, my bowl that's cashed, and cut down my crops Givin' a shout out to my peeps, you best gimme my props And if you don't show me no respect, I'll bust you up side your chops believe it Yeah boyeee, can I get a square, why's that afro pick stuck in your hair I'm down wit dat, I'm keepin' it real, when the man keeps you down, you gots ta steal Just a thug, I'm gonna git you s**a, never knew nobody said word to yo mutha You be illin', you be trippin' too, me and my adidas gonna crush your groove You're wack, word to that, but I'm a playa and I'm PH phat What up doe?, I'm tellin' you dog, snoop ain't got nothin' on me It's on you, the onus that is, hi my name is Scotty C Went downtown to get the nickel bags, I loved to smoke that cheeba Kicked back with my remote control, watched MTV on my Toshiba