Testo della canzone The Sauce (De La Soul feat. Philly Black), tratta dall'album AOI: Bionix

The Sauce - De La Soul feat. Philly Black

Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
Hold that, hold that, hold that
Yo all that, all that tryin'
Y'all, I told y'all about tryin'
Tryin' 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 one, two times in between I do mines
Showboat refs, I put y'all niggas on deck

Yeah, son, y'all fagots 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 manikin
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 flossy 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, hangin' like vango
Water broke flows to c-sec, you read xecs
Miscarried the rap, abortin' ya whole fort



Credits
Writer(s): West David Nathaniel, Mercer Kelvin, Mason Vincent, Jolicoeur Dave
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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