The Prodigy - Can't Complain (Featuring Twin Gambino & Chinky) lyrics

Hello, hello, yo what up, man? Who the f** is this? Who the f** it sound like, man? What the f** you calling so early for, man? What the f** time is it? It's like 3 o'clock, man Thought you was coming to get me, man? sh**, my bad son, please, man, come get me Man, before I choke this b**h, man Hurry up, son, man, it's like 90, man Let's get some hoes or something What up, dun? Same ol' sh** No doubt, ain't nothing new Let's take a little spin, dun, word up Yo, open my wings to a new day spread my lungs Get laced, jump in the whip, stash the guns Twist the key, shifted to D then flee Before anything, get the daily dose of choke We got the Benzo flooded with smoke on the float My eye's burnin' from the dope k**in' my throat Lean my seat a taste, lumbar support on the belt Doin' 90 or more debatin' on the latest rhyme wars Where units don't count But your rap pay add up to large amounts Get my thrills puttin' other n***a's sk**s to sleep Catch chills off a infamous beats Swing the trees doin' one-handed u'ees Blowin' on the ouwee 'cause we can't have the medicine canoein' There go the boys to the right, no days and nights like that Ayyo, dun, hold that down and turn it around Dirty as f**, thugs d** and guns, D's and fatigues T N T hopin' out of MPV's, surprise all a f** out of me Got rubber Glocks pointed at me Ayyo Twin, what the f**? They had us laid out on the ground holdin' us down With gats to back of our heads was goin' down It wasn't us that held up that b**h you got Where's the proof, man? Let me speak to my attorney I know the routine, don't try to throw me I been gettin' knocked since 12 and my moms tried to scold me But all that told me to get in more sh** Ayyo P, what up? You my co-D, we both get knocked What you did with that half a tree? (Right in my sock) Yo, I hope these f**in' dicks won't find the stash spot Dun, you know how I get down? Yo I'm ready to bounce Do the 100 yard-dash and tear a** If my other half was alive we woulda got k** 'Cause dun woulda went for the guns and got ill Plus I gots cracks on me, they found the cracks on me Looked at'em, gave'em back to me I could swore they was takin' us in Then the lady in the car said, "that's not them" Picked us up, told me I could keep the d** They didn't give a f**, they was only lookin' for guns And you ain't gotta tell us twice We hopped in the car and slid off On our way up-town for more of that funk P lit the tree back up Got off the Tri-burrough, hit the Henry Huds f** it, let's slide through the Rutgers Roll the windows down 'cause infamous Mobb bumpers Skip To My Lou had the crowd jumpin' Took a walk through the park frontin' Didn't even have to hurt nuttin' Man, I love it, ain't nothin' like summer in New York Hear Infamous Thoughts Then the Dream Team music starts Damn, we young black entrepreneurs New York pricks and dicks can't stop our floss We like organized crime, the f**in' Mobb I'm only twenty-six playin' wit' serious cards Dead serious cash, luxurious labs Learn to balance fame with pain, you can't complain Jus' another day livin' in the hood Jus' another day around the way Feelin' good today, oh no, we can't complain Jus' another day livin' in New York Dealin' with the jakes and the snakes Feelin' good today, we hit 'em up 'cause we here to stay