Gettin Flicked

Lyrics
[Intro: Boldy James] Concreatures Boldy Blocks [Verse 1: Boldy James] I'm countin' gwap like a packed casino (Ching) In the coffee shop, whippin' cream up, the cappuccino (A-1) Hubba rocks got the fiends runnin' back with singles Chasin' a high they ain't seen since sellin' crack been legal (Never) Facin' long vacations, out on bail, fresh out of jail No laces in my number twelves (Air Jordans) So anxious to blaze up this blil' I've been savin' since county jail Put on my street clothes (Clothes) Took off my county blues, put on my free-throws (Chest) Kicked off my shower shoes, then threw my piece on (Wrist) Cut off my wristband, then threw my freeze on (Watch) Screw my earring in, threw my two rings on Put on my C frames (Yes), turn on my minute phone Cut on my NexTel, threw my D fitted on (Boldy Blocks) They call me King James Jones, it's writ' in stone All my Concreatures gettin' it on, in the zone [Chorus: Sample & Boldy James] Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Got cops on me, got cops on me (Gettin' flicked) Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Got cops on me, got cops on me [Verse 2: Boldy James] Under the pale moonlight, you niggas never danced with the Devil (Nah) State troopers behind you while you slam on the pedal (Gettin' flicked) Gettin' in that Reg-al, hand on your metal, Mag-a-num special Sandwich bag full of pebbles, and it's max if they catch you (Supermax) It's real-life shit, this ain't "Hansel and Gretel" In my kitchen, Pyrex right next to the kettle Open the cabinet, farina right next to the pet milk (Voila) With my strap on the sink full of dishes and residue (Uh-huh) Phone tapped, I think, and my minutes is hella low (Who this?) Who in the hell'd think that that kid would be sellin' dope? (Gettin' flicked) From petty-thief misdemeanors to federal Seventeen in the clink for some weed in my Pelle coat Never seen in the speed (Nope), so them D's will never know (Nah) Where we keepin' them P's and them keys of périco (Yeah) Desert Eag' in my jeans, lemon squeeze, I'll let it blow If you ready to leave, here the keys to Heaven—go It's Concreatures [Chorus: Sample + Boldy James] Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri-ridin' down the street, got cops on me Got cops on me, got cops on me (Gettin' flicked) Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri-ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri-ridin' down the street, got cops on me Got cops on me, got cops on me (Concreatures) [Verse 3: Boldy James] Nah—don't talk me to death My aunties LaNette and Marsha accept the charges when neph' had to call 'em collect Them my Concreaturettes, and they love me to death Even though they say my head hard as a brick In the precinct, hoping that this fed charge don't stick to my black ass (Gettin' flicked) P–P–Pedal down the foothill Wheelies on the front on the dyno' with the black mags Black mags, rhinos in my black mag', black flag Red rag representin' brick slab, six flags Seven-Six up Pick' Ave, big bag, get cash Sellin' niggas brick slabs, big halves Seventeens and nick' bags, McNabb, Eagle with the clip stash Whiplash, quick fast, miss me with the riffraff Bitch-ass, kiss-ass, dick-suckin' bitch mad His bad, Concreatures, Westside, let's ride [Chorus: Sample + Boldy James] Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Got cops on me, got cops on me (Gettin' flicked) Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Ri–Ridin' down the street, got cops on me Got cops on me, got cops on me (Gettin' flicked) [Outro: Boldy James] Gettin' flicked
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Credits
- Writers
- Boldy James
- Chuck Inglish