Songtexte: D.B.A. Flip. It Ain't Nothing Nice.

:
(feat. Ras Kass)

[Hook]
It ain't nothin nice [x8]

[Ras Kass]
Son I be skimmin through the billboard top for an R&B album
Wonderin my outcome
Want the fat triangle but I'm real with or without one
Cause I'ma still sport wrinkles on my new jeans
Smokin beadies to the pink stream
On a microphone, I'm like the booty Michael Corleone 36 zone
The homies always told me to be the man, understand
If niggaz is playin hardball, then why the fuck you throwin underhand
See only the small modest mark time
That's the reason that bustas still sellin nickel sacks and ganja
You two bit hustla, I'm the grown brother like clockers
Went and give you five cents to put cheese on the whopper
So steer near clear a mere near rear bia
I'm rollin with the crowbar clear
Still wearin my favorite suit like I was asshole naked
Now fake it till you make it or take it nigga

[Hook]

[D.B.A. Flip]
My motions in school going through a whole child
Ya pushin rocks on the block cause the spots what ya found
I made my dough and I made sure I kept my name on tight
Layin low in the day and turn the day by moonlight
They out of sight when they go wild
Just to let them ??? service cluck as they stroll by
Lowkey the smokies on my name
Ain't no slippin when they crippin cause I done peeped game
Now I had closed, but then they ran me out
I sold my last ounce, then I bounced to my baby mama's house
Kind of bill couldn't get no kind of deal
Had to be out on them streets, hurry up and make my sales
But now it's on cause I'm grown and I'm still a G
But it's ??? I sell my crack by the tracks in this industry
Remember me when you hustle runnin right do or die on the side flip for life
biatch

[Hook x8]

[Ras Kass]
Now it's either give me the money, give me the power
Or give me 4.25 an hour, what the fuck you think I'm gone do
To be honest with you, I gonna get mine
Cause I known niggaz thats college graduates that's broke
Askin for dimes and nickel sacks
Nigga give me that and I give you some
You watch my back I watch yours
I do rap chores while niggaz be looking for the rapture
I don't understand cause niggaz gots to capture
Your own, now keep your eyes on the prize
Cause Clinton is peril, nigga you might as well be chimpin
I wanna be eatin jumbo shrimp and lobster
I want 200,000 in the bank, you wanna be the imposter mobster
Recognize like Sam Snead, I got 'em four twins to feed
So make the next man bleed, I just might
Cause ain't nothin right in my life
God help me, It ain't nothin nice

[Hook x4]
From LA to NY, ATL and back it ain't nothin nice
To all my niggaz and my bitches throw your motherfuckin hands in the air
And keep 'em there