Afro Connections at a Hi 5 (In the Eyes of the Hoodlum)
Connection A, click, what? My dick, chick I smack a fish if you thinks My connection ain't thick, dick Headed like a punk whip I travel miles with a rhythmic lip I rock an Afro In '83, gee, yo And spray the sheen so I get a Soul Glow I play the corner tough And me and Mase pull puffs on a blunt Givin' high-five is what I want So I puff a blunt, I don't front I get spliffed, get a stiff Then I go hump a stunt Like a pimp pro (Nah, man, a super ho) That's cool cause I'm still an Afro bro Yeah, I'm live for my life is hectic Every hour, every minute, every second I keep a level head and stay down to earth Cause I've been an Afro since birth Yeah Now I hold my crotch cause I'm top-notch I run amok Sasquatch, and I like to eat live crab I've got five beepers, you scab But you can find me directly on the Ave (You niggas cheat me, well who's that!) My breath never smells wack I eat the watermelon Tic-Tac Before I kiss myself I always jump back (Yo, gee, this track is stack) (And you know that) I do three flips When a punk flip on my duke lifts But I flex more strength when I'm asleep On the other side with his main tapes Make her dry her face, buy her gold earlocks But I may, she flocks round me like a donut She got sprinkles but I bite my way out More brothers come about, try to scheme slick But the Native Tongue's thick Lick 'em real good, like a real hood should But the fly tape let the car speakers shake I ran a cop down, I smile a frown with a but Show gold teeth, cause I ain't a vegetarian Not scared of beef, sport a feather like Chief Got a scribble pad, you can get these gonads Cause I'm big-willed, blow off like a seal Cause connection with the Afro is real I be the gift of gab, but be a bro with a diss Because it's tough to bluff a cab No wonder Melle Mel is 'Rrrr-RAH!' I play of tape of the son of La-di-da My cousin Rilo sells blow, a G a day Keeps his kids hooray, a size nine and half I kicks my tricks, is to live for Island I mug a mug vic, but I's cool, I self With the quickness I bust the true slang Show no pit to those who don't understand The Maseo got tailed with the big bail I busted loose but now the blue goose is on my tail I seen the ghetto go lower than it is (He don't care, cause his nigga's selling crack to the kids) My jeans are brand new, with twelve more In the closet with my silk, and below My 45 pack thick, draw quick If a nigga starts some shibidibidit My crib is uptown, downtown, L.I And another crib in Queens I munch some cornbread, Boar's Head My favorite pork chops and A plate of collar greens I chill with Shymel, Akeem, Jaheed And the Rastafarians'll be the crown in And the Poppa But the connections are still a high-five (Let's get busy)
Written by: DAVID JOLICOEUR, KELVIN MERCER, PAUL HUSTON, PAUL E. HUSTON, VINCENT MASON
Lyrics © Exploration Group LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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