OutKast – Slump (1998) | Track profile | Dork

Lyrics

Slump

Baby gotta eat (gotta eat)
Yeah (yeah)
Off the top (off the top)
Slick patna (slick patna)
Know about it (know about it)
Jump back (jump back)
Come on (come on, come on)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
From front to back street, listen, we on a mission
To get right, workin' street corner in the midnight
Picture the scene, these fiends with fire
Ten dollar dreams, scheme, for a sack of that, believe that
I'm wit whateva like Wheatstraw
Stuck servin' my cocaine raw
Drop sixty-two off the brick, jump back
Twenty over now that's mo' money to get
Slick, we fin' to lick on this corner without gettin' caught
But time, keep a sleepin' and money gettin' short
Plus that crooked cop Brock think we blow slangin (fuck him)
That why he ride through the hole with the do' swangin'
But I make moves, shake them tricks up out they shoestrings
Be more precise when we do things
Cause life is like shakin' the dice, but I buck back twice
Like five-deuce, fo'-trey, okay
I'm strictly stressin' dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
And forever hollering, "Hootie Hoo!" when we see cops
I'm strictly stressin' dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
And forever hollering, "Hootie Hoo!" when we see cops
Shit, cops and robbers niggas be bound to get them dollars and cents
They get in a slump like baseball players when they short on they rent
Anything goin you ain't knowin' how much money you spent
But in the real world you surrounded by these ladies and gents
Who hang around you cause you be buyin' all the weed and all the chicken
Feedin' everybody, smokin' 'em out
When you was broke though they was missin'
Now you ridin' bout fo' deep, startin' to tear up your suspension
And your baby mamma on child support, my fault, forget to mention
You don't even have a checking account wasn't thinking about no pension
I used to work at Steak 'N' Ale, Old Gold off in the kitchen
Had determination and graduated, now I got the whole rap world fascinated
I wanted a piece of the pie for me and my family so I made it
Continue to sell dope, it's payin' the bills so you gon' do it
But legislation got this new policy, three strikes and you're ruined
Now where your crew at? Yeah
I'm strictly stressin' dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
And forever hollering, "Hootie Hoo!" when we see cops
I'm strictly stressin' dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
And forever hollering, "Hootie Hoo!" when we see cops
Ay, me and my buddy on the cut and they know we servin' 'em slabs
We better watch what we doing, and look out for Joe Nab
And quit re-ing up and standing on this same old block
Before our gangsta ass partner get both of us shot
Niggas talking cause they making some flow
But still ain't did nothing that ain't been done before
You can't be trying to showcase, just put it down for your spot
And improvise and work with that little you got
So I think when I finish selling my last sack
I'ma take some of this money, go and give some back
Cause people won't forget about the time you gave, know I'm sayin'?
And start thinking bout a path to pave
I'm strictly stressin' dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
And forever hollering, "Hootie Hoo!" when we see cops
I'm strictly stressin' dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
And forever hollering, "Hootie Hoo!" when we see cops

Lyrics provided by LRCLIB

OutKast – Slump (1998) | Track profile | Dork