Текст и слова песни Coup – Busterismology
[Boots]
I'm risin like the vapors from the dank
Fuck the mirror in my pocket, had to break it for a shank
What you thank? Walk the plank, is my motherfuckin attitude
Right hand on the wheel, elbow out the window, leanin
To the latitude, actin rude can get you blown up, to'n up
But these teeny-boppers ain't gon' live to be a grown up
My motherfucker done got hisself into a spot
I got this nine, but it jam on every fifth shot
If we gon' do this, we could this, but I'm trippin off
The factor that these bastards put me through this
Nuttin ass tricks, gangin up on my homie
Now I gots to do some shit, to leave yo' kids lonely
The level of my life should be higher
Told E-Roc to jump in, and get up out the line of fire
Made a three point turn, as the three joints burned
Off they lips, actin hard wit they face held firm
Calmly stated my acquaintance was no punk
You got a gat, I got a gat - now is you requestin funk?
They said no, E-Roc yelled, "Trick!!"
When we start the revolution all they probably do is snitch
Chorus: Boots
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When WE start the revolution, all they, probably do is SNITCH!
..
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When WE start this revolution, all they, probably do is SNITCH!
[Boots]
I used to work at Mickey D's
And to my old buster-ass manager, licky DEEZ
Had me workin on hands and knees, scrubbin grease
And in the summer with the oven on, it's hundred-ten degrees
I would despise flippin fries, I guess his bitch-ass
Thought he was the shit, with his little red and gold tie
I asked him why I couldn't get mo' hours
He said it must be cause I lacked the mental powers
If I was smart then I would be in his position
I left his nose in a busted up condition
Only came back for my last check to pay me off
He told me then, that he wasn't gonna lay me off
Said I should quit and it would be to my enjoyment
I fell for it and couldn't get my unemployment
To ALL the managers, on ALL the shifts
When we start this revolution, all y'all probably do is snitch!
Chorus
..
[Boots]
Now hella my folks got respect for you, killa
Wit a raised black fist, and a pocket full of scrilla
Cap peelers want your autograph, say you know the path
But I do the math, my game bursts, like a bubble in the bath
Punk asses like you is just here for confusion
Be abusin rhetoric, and it's slightly amusin
I'm risin like the vapors from the dank
Fuck the mirror in my pocket, had to break it for a shank
What you thank? Walk the plank, is my motherfuckin attitude
Right hand on the wheel, elbow out the window, leanin
To the latitude, actin rude can get you blown up, to'n up
But these teeny-boppers ain't gon' live to be a grown up
My motherfucker done got hisself into a spot
I got this nine, but it jam on every fifth shot
If we gon' do this, we could this, but I'm trippin off
The factor that these bastards put me through this
Nuttin ass tricks, gangin up on my homie
Now I gots to do some shit, to leave yo' kids lonely
The level of my life should be higher
Told E-Roc to jump in, and get up out the line of fire
Made a three point turn, as the three joints burned
Off they lips, actin hard wit they face held firm
Calmly stated my acquaintance was no punk
You got a gat, I got a gat - now is you requestin funk?
They said no, E-Roc yelled, "Trick!!"
When we start the revolution all they probably do is snitch
Chorus: Boots
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When WE start the revolution, all they, probably do is SNITCH!
..
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When we start the revolution, all they probably do is snitch
When WE start this revolution, all they, probably do is SNITCH!
[Boots]
I used to work at Mickey D's
And to my old buster-ass manager, licky DEEZ
Had me workin on hands and knees, scrubbin grease
And in the summer with the oven on, it's hundred-ten degrees
I would despise flippin fries, I guess his bitch-ass
Thought he was the shit, with his little red and gold tie
I asked him why I couldn't get mo' hours
He said it must be cause I lacked the mental powers
If I was smart then I would be in his position
I left his nose in a busted up condition
Only came back for my last check to pay me off
He told me then, that he wasn't gonna lay me off
Said I should quit and it would be to my enjoyment
I fell for it and couldn't get my unemployment
To ALL the managers, on ALL the shifts
When we start this revolution, all y'all probably do is snitch!
Chorus
..
[Boots]
Now hella my folks got respect for you, killa
Wit a raised black fist, and a pocket full of scrilla
Cap peelers want your autograph, say you know the path
But I do the math, my game bursts, like a bubble in the bath
Punk asses like you is just here for confusion
Be abusin rhetoric, and it's slightly amusin
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