Sean C - What U Got lyrics

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Sean C - What U Got lyrics

I got a head start like pre-schoolers And n***as couldn't fade me If they was in the barbers chair With the case, 50 bag and 10 coolies You could use Windex but can't see through us Tryin' to be hard like Dewar's Scotch, I sat back and watched And peeped all parts of enemies that are arch That are gettin' ironed out like starch With more madness than March So know the time like Swatch And come test me and Nestle You wanna be fly but you pesky Arrest me, comin' up short like Joe Pesci Couldn't score an open goal if you was Wayne Gretzky The next G, emcee, player pimp, to attempt To represent to a hardcore When they style is impotent Is gettin' sent, wiped off like lint And that's that, cause I ain't got to rhyme about gats Just facts, chumps be on they onesies like jacks Fakin' jacks, I'm in'ta breakin' backs like Christopher Reeve Cause there's too much sh** I gotta achieve And I believe, from the 'bury to Belize We hot, Ed O.G and Nestle what you got [Hook] [Cut/scratched] "The ghetto, Mr Ed O what you got?" My sh** be mad hot when I blow up the sp-id-ot "The ghetto, Mr Ed O what you got?" Aiyyo f** all the props, I want knots and yachts "The ghetto, Mr Ed O what you got?" Give me change like slots, and 304s in flocks "The ghetto, Mr Ed O what you got?" Yeah yeah I thank god I awoke I'd rather be paid than broke Cause n***as in the north-east don't wet you They leave you soaked, smoked I'm too hot to freeze They couldn't see us like the breeze Lookin' out for black hoodies Threes and trees And enemies who wanna cut you like lumber But I'll be in the cut, on the rocks At Malcom X in the summer Scoopin' mad numbers In the trees in the tundra, from the ground that be under And parlayin' Havin' chicks from out of state on some Swiss *?* Obeyin' when they layin' more attention to the payin' What up my n***a Dre in, Springfield I hope you flyin', and your wing's healed You don't know me when my top's off like OE You show me, a better connect in Humbolt and OP That's my way, *?* he couldn't make you stay We be blowin' up the sp-id-ot like Timothy McVeigh 'till I'm old and grey, you was once soft 'till you sat out And got hard like Clay, I set it off on any day [Hook] [Cut/scratched x6] "The ghetto, Mr Ed O what you got?"