Put some fire on that ass end of dat weed

Cause in da SWAT's red hots don't drip or bleed



Cuz' you know me givin' me left hand dap

P funk be ridin' shot gun escort your window broke out son

A cool breeze got my lips chap mornin' slap some

Soul in my bread basket gap contain "X" marks the spot

twain O.C. the cut layin'

a stew of empty gas in my tank

A buck thirty lookin' ugly think but it ain't gonna stop no show

Ol' burd puttin a buzz in you ear

"It's gonna snow" or maybe perhaps sleet

Rap up the beat outside barely made it to your wake

Lookin' like Mr. Fisher, dickie down no suit, no tie

Niggaz ain't gonna be able to just get by no mo'

You leavin' the hotel - 254



Today was good to me

I went to the Goodwill with the ten dollar bill

Got that London Fog out tha back paid tha man

Me and Khujo and T-Boo, three jack lumbers on tha loose

Cut your ass Lo like Cee, be under tha water

Half these figures around me be hollering Newt

Now what the fuck has this politician did for you

Complain, complain but Mr. Clampett ain't gon' change

Just ribb your ass up just to gut your pockets out

I heard Bill put two G's up for some folks

That they found in they house beat up

And I don't discuss that color scheme that they fall on

Cuz tha scheme that they fall on don't match wit my tone

See, I wonder will I walk tha streets in 1995

And not have to make bond from 254

Uh, will somebody please turn the lights on 166

I can't see where tha fuck I'm going, I can't do shit but get mad

I can't keep get Billie and his uncle out my fuckin' Goodie Bag...



Without your shank you can't thank

Without your niggas you up the creek

Stank with a ass fool of ore takin' what I say for what it's worth

It don't matter cuz how I feel might be triggered

From thoughts I had in the past

Now I struggle to reach the sky why try so hard

If all I'ma get is spit on

Cause life at the bottom ain't hittin on shit

But some of these folks is gettin rich

I know about mines, unwind, can't take at times going through

The same drama that got me here in this state of mind...

Red-hot in the summer time



First of all, I stand a little more than five feet tall

But we can still brawl nigga, I ain't scared at all

I guess you niggas don't know or can't see

That it ain't even wise steppin' to me incorrectly

But yet still when nigga's feel they can deal

I will split yo' ass up for real

Cause we the maniacs with the chunky Goodie sac's

So I don't carry an ax, but I still swing low with the lumber jax trax

Are being made by Organo-i-z-e

Why we coolin' in the shade ain't gettin paid

For chillin, illin' willin' to do what I got to do

To come thru your speaker

Cee-Lo, he will never come weaker

Uniquer than a lot of emcees out today

Because I'm more than careful about what I say

When I pick up a microphone it's on

Them better leave me alone, I'm in my zone

Prone to snap if you offer me a chance

Like it when them chunky hoes can dance

I'll enhance the microphone when it's in my grip, I do not slip

I can't forget my nigga's Jo, T-Mo, and Gipp

Ha, ha, ha, well Great Scott, is he a thief?

It seems like he has a mouth fulla gold teeth

I smile because your eyes can't take the glare

But Cee-Lo, him don't care, I cut off all my hair

And everybody stop and stare when we come in the place

And I can get on the mic wit no time to waste

Get right up in yo' face, kick the flavor you taste

And when I'm on the microphone it's a damn disgrace

How you don't comprehend what I'm saying to you

And I'm the C, the double E from the Goodie Mo Crew

I'm coming thru, I'm comin' true, ooh I can't even stop

It's Cee-Lo B, I'm down wit that nigga pop, pop, pop and my nigga Mike L

And Bert P and my nigga Pretty Ken, you know he down wit me

We from Atlanta, G-A, that is where we stay

I'm diggin all in the Goodie Bag each 'n ever day

Ooooh shit