Інформація про пісню На цій сторінці ви можете ознайомитися з текстом пісні The Sauce , виконавця - De La Soul. Дата випуску: 02.03.2023
Вікові обмеження: 18+
Мова пісні: Англійська
The Sauce |
| Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah |
| Hold that, hold that, hold that |
| Yo all that, all that trying |
| Y’all, i told y’all about trying |
| Trying is later on man |
| Can we try something for the ladies |
| Can we try something for the ladies |
| Can we do that De La |
| Let’s get that goin' on man |
| Told y’all about those messages and shit man |
| We get to that later man, know what I mean |
| Let’s just do something for the ladies man |
| Let’s get a chorus goin' on or something |
| Let’s pop a chorus off, ya know what I mean |
| Let’s do that right now, let’s get that goin' on |
| Let’s try that out |
| I see you real niggas do fake things sometimes |
| One of them is grabbin' on his mic to rhymes |
| So let us demonstrate the right way ya need to place |
| Yo, it’s De La up in ya face |
| Better yet ya whole scene, here to pull in the green |
| With Philly Black |
| Just layin' back, raisin' my stacks |
| 'Cause how they want it I give it to em' rock or the raw |
| Yo it really don’t matter son, some hot shit for y’all |
| To go cop at the store, I spit, kick at ya jaw |
| Leave you on the floor on all fours, you slaw |
| We burn fast in black flag lands |
| Bringin' herds and caravans |
| And heat rock rhythms, you Blink-182 times |
| In between I do mines |
| Showboat refs, I put y’all niggas on deck |
| Yeah son y’all faggots are soft |
| I been through, carried the torch |
| Recognized and done married a dwarf |
| So in-laws pay a writer’s fee |
| My stizzy sets a wiz bitch’s eye in me |
| Pissy in a rizzy |
| Indian wife I flip em' behind reachin' for sobriety |
| Blew north, never find me |
| Reside in this state of mind |
| Keep my temple developmental |
| Projects, front-line essential |
| Reminded of concubines and evil that men do |
| Cut off Ginsu, carry a brand new |
| Vandle issues, brandin' issues |
| Grabbin' tissues, like you didn’t know you had it in you |
| I live it up y’all, givin' you what y’all |
| Need and can’t call, carry the ball |
| Like a spit-kicker should and ya wish ya could |
| Hold it down like the digital who stitched the hood |
| Better yet the whole globe, light it up like a strobe |
| While you froze panicin' |
| Went from man to maniquin |
| We them peaceful rap stars |
| That can still jab ya in ya face |
| Leave ya shit redder than Mars |
| The sauce and shit, of course we it |
| The coffee shit, groundin' beef like Maxwell House |
| Go ask the house |
| We representatives |
| Go call ya Senators |
| Change laws in rap, renovate ya landscape |
| The man takes for sixteen |
| And pull a paragraph up out the tango, hang it like Van Gogh |
| Water broke flows to c-sec, you read xecs |
| Miscarried the rap, abortin' ya whole fort |