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wrapped 2002 - code red lyrics

[hook]
yo it’s the el baby baby
the el baby baby
the one that rocks it real well baby baby
the el baby baby
the el baby baby
the one with all the clientele baby baby
“wrapped around the music”
it’s el one
“wrapper around the music is the sound of”
“y’all know the name” – pharaohe monch ‘simon says’

[verse one]
well it’s the bald headed beautiful
gold t–th removable
boxing fake rappers in like 9 to 5 cubicles
listen up, tune in to, code red the super crew
’bout to blow worldwide, the whole planet’s nuke-able
my man ak’ will push back a few with you then puke with you
tell you that your girlfriend look cute with you then scoop her duke
i got lots of personal issues
i’m not a person to diss without lots of cursing and pistols
got a verse and it fits you
it’s all about wack rhymes
and being a broke rapper that’s most certain to hit you
me? i ain’t the type to be trife and call collect
i ain’t trying to stay underground and get none of y’alls respect
so while you sit at home cause you ain’t heard from rawkus yet
i’ll be chilling with free on 106 and park in sweats
no gimmicks, just my everyday regular image
with a little ice but eff’ it god made cheddar for spending
i like to take it straight but it taste better with lemon
why settle for one chicken when you can have several women?
what you getting right now is a true veteran spitting
who loves the culture but i got a high standard of living
if i ain’t ripping i’m at the mall wasting cash
at the club chasing -ss or driving around wasting gas
they call me el’
i’m pushing 30 with a beer gut
and still spitting rhymes that tear most of your peers up

[hook]

[verse two]
you want kindness and love?
roses, diamonds and hugs
eff that i cuss out chickens in line at the club
el be hurting their little feelings, don’t say “sorry” or nothing
why should i give a d-mn, that girl probably ain’t crushing
it’s the 502 heads, and we some drunk bitter rappers
we sober right now but we gon’ drink liquor after
we don’t smoke crack cocaine or down a bunch of uppers
we complain about hip hop and how y’all a bunch of suckers
step to code red? you better have life insurance
fronting like you gangster but y’all mad white suburban
p-ss mics or bourbon?
i’ll drink several shots of it
my man choc will hit, anything with a pulse in it
i’m on that repulsive tip, not for shock value
i run with compulsive kids who’ll knock the snot out you
i’ll pay an a&r but not to come scout you
just gain your confidence and then gouge you with a scalpel
i got a reputation as a short tempered cat yo
i fell in love once but don’t you ever mention that hoe
and while you all worked up, fixing your lips to curse us
i would’ve hit you worse but wattz made me clean the verse up

[hook]

[outro: grandmaster caz] {x4}
it’s the el, the el, the one who rocks it well
taking all the fly girls to the motel

- code red lyrics

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