Dance Cracka Songtext
von 1900Rugrat

Huh, huh, huh, baow, baow
(Jeju) baow, baow, baow, baow, baow
Baow, baow, baow, baow
Baow, baow, baow, baow
Baow, baow, baow, baow
Baow, baow, baow, baow

And she gon′ tweak, told her, "Better tweak for me"
Unc in the trap steady tweak on the PCP
I'm the type to throw a party at the PNC
Fucked up in the head, bought neph′ a Glock, he want a PSP

Huh, shake (huh), shake (huh), shake somethin', baby (huh)
Shake, shake (huh), shake somethin', baby (huh)
Shake (huh), shake, shake somethin′, baby (huh)
Shake, shake (huh), shake somethin′, baby (huh)

Bitch, I'm too high, huh, talmbout too fried
Fucked that ho too many times, need her tubes tied
I′m off three pills, in here with two 9s
Bitch smellin' fishy-fishy, call her tuna


I can′t crank her, she need a tune-up
Might finesse somethin', huh, maybe two times
In here with zoo mami, she want that Goyard
I ain′t finna calm down 'til a dude die

Smokin' all that to the face, bitch, I can′t breathe
Trapped so hard up out that bitch, so I can′t speak
The way I pop it, I make e'rybody hate me
Standin′ tall in that pussy, bitch, I'm 8′3"

Water, money talk, huh, it speak the truth
I practice what I preach, I like to read the Book of Ruth
Throwin' hunnids out the lid, money-colored fountain blue
I just walked in Club E11even, 12, lookin′ at my shoes, ay, ay

Free Lil Spodee out the feds 'til he back up on the loose
And if a cracker diss the denim, get him back up on the roof
They know I'm clutchin′ on the fuckin′ grease gun, send you to Zeus
Spider bitin', bitch, you know I keep one, that brown recluse

Huh, huh, shake (huh), shake (huh), shake somethin′, baby (huh)
Shake, shake (huh), shake somethin', baby (huh)
Shake (huh), shake, shake somethin′, baby (huh)
Shake, shake (huh), shake somethin', baby


You know I′m fuckin' with the news, and I'm clutchin′ that semi
Shit ain′t makeup, I got people fuckin' round with that fenty
I′m in the trap with some bowls, come and shop, we got plenty
Unc fucked up in the head, he want the one with the fetty

19 shots up in the Glock, I swear I thought I had 20
Jit got rich off rap and rock, but he still eatin' at Denny′s
Kosher told me, "Cop the Porsche," I say, "I rock with the Bentley"
She say I got dope dick, that why she fiend for the Jimmy

Me and Rug in the Porsche, you could say that I got 19-11
I'm with BLP ′cause all my opps be lemon pepper
They got me touched, but it ain't felt, this gator skin, not no leather
I count the man up with Gs, I hand 'em in with the devil