Lyrics:
funk
Funky Funk, say what
What the funk, ow
Funky funk, get low
Suck my funk, to the funky funk
Funky funk, say what
Bass solo
Sir Sly
Mr FreakyStyley
V
and pretty damn cold
Well than how in the hell are u decrypting german codes
Sir sir what's your name? capital A Turing
Mum says I am the best mathematician
rockin', just so dope it's shockin'
Because I be layin' rhymes super sly, 'cause this is do or die
Make it or break it, although most emcees do fake it
on the sly
'Cause as a human for hire
He weren't afraid of no Sin
He weren't afraid of no law
Rocko'd fuck and fight and kill
To get that cartoon gualla
drippin'
Mouth full of gold
Big pinky ring
Bitch Brazilian
Lick this blunt hoe
I want yo spit to fuckin' seal it
Vacation on a island surrounded by plenty
hid cocaine in your School bag
You sly You lose now to the New guys
Goons back kill the whole gang by the pool side
You die go six feet on the inside
it's on
As I skate on the triple gold 100 spokes flossin
Bangin Scarface as I bend Slauson
To the swap meet to get the Karl Kani hook-up
Sippin
of red
And the glitter of gold was immense
But instead of renowned beauty I saw a fading smile
Held up by a frail and heavy heart
My Queen was dressed in
Roc'a
Chopa loaded ready to go
There's that racist op
Here we go
This ain't no in mini mine mo
We go catch that op by his toe
Fuck the crown we
the bitch heart like Sly Cooper
This pimpin', no illusion
Players from the Souf are chosen
They steady choosing
Gold teeth shining, put the sun to shame
Hit
Sly remarks keep your head on straight
You've got a label for anyone but you
In faux struggle, comes faux triumph
Your gold pockets solve everything,
cloths
Sipped red wine and looked so composed
So I kindly obliged cause I was so intrigued
by his corrosive charm and honest critique.
He said hey
is by choice
What's your name sir
What's your name sir
You put your hands on me
What is your name
No
I asked you a question
I am trying to talk to this
Gotta cop a chain
With a Big Mac that screams my name
I'm a sly cat the beat got maimed
Gotta sell a track 'cause I need the fame
Bundled in a pack
and gold
Wise men fold
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
got you under control
Dying for a dollar disguised as a goal
Cuz what's a man with no soul but riches and gold
You want peace?
Peace in
creep
Deeper than the page of a book let me look
You let me hit the stage, that's when I got my folks hooked like
No, I ain't never been pimped by
On the side of 95
But they never found the spice
What a life
It's a vice
I was only getting by
Bipolar on sly
Yea I like them high highs
But I rock them low
a queen
In the eyes of weaker men
I am only a play thing
Running through my body like gold, sir
Ancient divinity
I am your mother, I am your father
I am
[Chorus: x2]
[Dre]
No, I ain't never been pimped by the system
That's because I ain't no slave
Don't be trying to sunbathe, never lived off in no cave
Yeah, I go by the name of Cassidy the Hustler
And I brought two of my niggaz with me
And we about to shut the industry down
Ayo Wheezy let's get
clothing is more than a warning
Bla-bla-black sheep, have you any soul?
No sir, by the way, what the hell are morals
Jack, be nimble, Jack, be quick
reason
That’s the meaning of this season
Cold hands
Flyaway strands
In the faces
That haunt these silent places
City walkers
Rolling on by
City walkers
Why
Today isn't just any occasion
My button-up's a nigga and the jacket's Caucasian
Oh, Black and white crimes is the justification
Gold tie
Discuss these gold by sir sly Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In