Songtext:
Aw yeah, word up, word to mother. Here comes G. Rap with another one y'all. Beschriftungen Bonn We going to swing it like this...
I'm right in front of my front steps thinking of a plan Looking like Raggedy Ann, no dough in hand kicking a can Thinking of a plot to pull some bank in Because I'm dead and stinking Soles on my shoes winking, t-shirt is shrinking Soon I see some ties and my eyes open wide quick Basteln für Kinder Who's that with you, chick? Bill Blass my sidekick What's up, black? Give his hand a smack Up pulls a Cadillac, yo baby we'll be back Jumped right on inside, not too many people saw us Thinking about who gotta get robbed because the mob got a job for us The drove us down to the sober section Of town where the clowns don't be paying for protection The want us to send a message to Jimmy the bartender Wermelskirchen Immobilien Lend a friend the money next you're ripping off his car fenders He's coming up short cause he snorts Coke, dope, nope, and hope he don't get caught He owes some Benjamin Franklins, every last bit of em But Jimmy's pockets are empty, so now we gotta get rid of him But Jimmy's wife is with him and they don't want to involve her Hopped out the back seat they gave me a revolver Blass, you distract him while I go and whack him Big Sky PR Entered through the back side of the bar and then attacked him He's screaming for his life, reaching for his wife Shot him in the back of the head and shanked him with a knife And that goes for anybody who's gotta pay they dues You lose, cause I got the Ill Street Blues
Suckers I clobber, because my town is full of cops and robbers You're not promised tomorrow in this Little Shop of Horrors So I got to get with the business of hit quick Moneygrip's pocket's looking thick so I stick Slick Hold it right here, hands in the air, I know you got the loot Or better yet, face down on the ground, empty your pockets troop Hit the deck I got the Tech right on your neck Flyer Layout And I expect to make a buck to heck with a traveller's check But if a vic' tries to choke me I'll have to smoke him like I'm Smokey the Bear, so okie dokie Goodbye, or bon voyage, have a good journey Don't even try begging for your life, that don't concern me So to the next weasel that freezes Your begging and your pleases only getting your closer to meeting Jesus Yeah, I shake a schmuck just to make a buck kindergeburtstag Then I break a duck and if the duck gotta get bucked then I don't give a fuck Hyper as a sniper piping niggas like a plumber Cold vicking and sticking up the ones that run the numbers Or even a bigger score, the lady in the liquor store Go inside and kick in the door, pull her then I'm stickin her for Money or your life, honey hurry and choose You lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues
Chorus
Extra extra read all about it in the papers The boss tried to rape us, so we tossed him off the skyscraper Because he pulled some other people to try and hit us Get us, but none of them did us, he must be trying to kid us But that's dead, I'll thank God in the red, 'cross the bread borders So nobody can short us, he fled down to headquarters Ready to put some work in, we're not a lazy crew, we'll do a job or two But yo, the man can't even stick me with some Crazy Glue Ready to tore him even more because she saw him We took out all the lookouts in the front and kicked his door in What's up snake, why'd you violate? Because I'm a hossa (What's that?) Yo, that's a pig that don't fly straight Getting ready to jab him, I grabbed him by the necktie Homie tried to get fly, and swing I gave him a decked eye You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down I'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues
