Testo Don't Get Close - Tone-Loc
Testo della canzone Don't Get Close (Tone-Loc), tratta dall'album Loc-ed After Dark (Deluxe Edition)
Don't get close
Don't get close
Fire from the flame from the depths of hell
When I grip the microphone I tend to rock well
Burning like the rays that shoot from the sun
The title taker, back breaker, coolin' to the maximum
I get respect with the dollars that I collect
I'm livin' large, in massive charge, in full effect
You say you're broke without knowin' who owes ya
I do shows from here to Nova Scotia
Rippin' shit up, tearin' shit up, and still chillin'
Friday night at the box I make a killin'
Individual, soloist, from the West Coast
And I'm advisin' you suckers, don't get close
Don't get close
Don't get close
Don't get close
Don't get close
I'm like steel, harder than a motherfucker
You mention Loc, it's known, not just another sucker
Creative mind, think clear with no discretion
Power of the brain made rap my total profession
Demonstratin', as eyes, are vindicated
You are relatin', but later you said you hate it
Like a cobra, I strike at any time
And then it's over, as soon as I bust a rhyme
You are silenced, wonderin', "What's going on?"
And then I chill, until the break of dawn
Duellin', to maintain the West Coast
But I'm advisin' you suckers, don't get close
Don't get close
Don't get close
Don't get close
Don't get close
My rhyme is like Boo-Yaa, but it's not dope
And I'm the type of MC to make all lose hope
Never faded or close to being traded
Check some of the songs that I've created
"I Got it Goin' On,""Cheeba,""Wild Thing,""On Fire"
Got the rest of my pack to make a sucker retire
Standin' brave, the one true soldier
You know it's whack, because Mike told ya
And I'm pricin' hard like Tyson
Rhyme so sweet, no need for no icing
Strapped with the gauge and lyrics are the trigger
When I perform, the ego's gettin' bigger and bigger
Crowd rocker, and I'm the one you chose
And I'm advisin' you suckers, don't get close
(Don't get close) I ain't pullin' no punches
And if you get too close, you might get yo' ass
Knocked smooth the fuck out (don't get close)
I'm here, been solo runnin' things out of this camp
And ain't nobody superior (don't get close)
To this brother right here, and I'm gone, you know what I'm sayin'?
Credits
Writer(s): Michael S. Simpson, John Robert King, Matt Dike, Anthony Terrell Smith
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