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box of wheaties - quelle chris lyrics

right, some kinda groove here
it’s a little bit groovy down here
bah bam, boom, bam
my mother, god, i hate my mother. pearls like f-ckin’ dinner plates, you know what i’m sayin? i mean, they’re so refractive
my uncle, he had an iroc in ’86, before that, that’s right he had the mark viii with the white-walls there and i remember he had, uh, the inside was plush. everybody else told him to get leather, he said, nah, you know, my bad back. i wanna be riding around in a plush velour suit. plush velvet, i’m talkin’ in the color of gunmetal grey, right. now you’re talkin’ velour on velour

[quelle chris]
hey yo, yo
i’m ballin y’all should put a n-gg- on a box of wheaties
i’m skatin’, when i dip, just put me on a box of wheaties
i’m flippin’ for the gobone put me on a box of wheaties
oh hold up, wait these haters need me on a box of wheaties
i kick it, they should stick a n-gg- on a box of wheaties
i’m runnin’ 0-100 put me on a box of wheaties
i pop off a bop huh put me on a box of wheaties
i k.o. every day yo, put him on a box of wheaties

i been on splash for eight and a half, feels fellini
back to back, i have no time for dancing off the td
peep my people, with me, like kurt and gp
can’t see me, say, hard to read like graffiti
pinch him, broad work, get ya numbers up
break up and fall, no chilling when i lit the summer up
oh you know, now you best start acting like you owe me something
my brothers don’t sleep and my sisters well don’t hold me cause

this sh-t right here, this my year
stepping off, feeling like the sh-t, my dear
forget those fears, drip no tears
for the real, let me make it crystal clear[x2]

’cause i’m ballin’ y’all should put a n-gg- on a box of wheaties
i’m skatin’, when i dip, just put me on a box of wheaties
i’m flippin’ for the gobone put me on a box of wheaties
oh hold up, wait these haters need me on a box of wheaties
i kick it, they should stick a n-gg- on a box of wheaties
i’m runnin’ 0-100 put me on a box of wheaties
i pop off a bop huh put me on a box of wheaties
i k.o. every day yo, put him on a box of wheaties

[denmark vessey]
oh, fresh not
since the rider requests masala and eggs
some caviar and frission (?)
subscription to rich n-gg- monthly
with shad moss on the cover, limited edition
my bootstraps pull up
my walls do a 360
i got the sh-t that the government got
yeah, you god d-mn right, god
blood, tears, and bite marks
fighting, sweating, must be heavy metal in the right, god
not a led zeppelin in the sweat from goin’ quite hard
according to this pie-chart, i should be in a psych ward
i want the real n-gg- algorithm on the whiteboard
they white-washed the style and put the rhythm in some izod
it’s close to four ciphers in a row
on the time bomb, i mean i’m fittin to blow
i figured you should know
you might want to get a pic for posterity with your nikon
before you hear obligatory ohs

this sh-t right here, this my year
stepping off, feeling like the sh-t, my dear
forget those fears, drip no tears
for the real, let me make it crystal clear [x2]

ooooh, i know you wish you felt this high
but i’m telling you
no feeling knowing you’re this fine
that’s why they gotta put me on

i remember the first time i went to the motherland. we talkin’ what, ’73, ’74? i remember we flew into dakar. and this brother, picked me up from the airport, in one of them, you know, them flintstone cars, you know? one door on the muhf-cka. four mismatchin’ wheels. no headlights, we in dakar and this brother ain’t got no headlights. every…and the brothers in the street, everybody about as black as the night. we go off into the abyss, take off, we talkin’ bout 60-70 kilometers an hour. i don’t know what that means, but, i know it was fast. we flyin’, you know, we flyin’ through the dakar night. and i’m losin’ my sh-t, you know, ’cause i can’t tell where this brother going, we drivin’ into the void, you know. and this motherf-ckin man, you know, he just, laughin’, you know. and only now, you know, at 67 years old, that i get it. you know? ’cause now, i’m that car, you understand what i’m sayin’? i’m that brother behind that, you know, flintstone car, you know what i mean? ’cause i got one door, i got one headlight, but i tell you what, i know how to drive that motherf-cker, i know how to drive that motherf-cker, i tell you that, you know?

you and your friends think you’re bad
you’ve ended a life
destroyed a family
over a jacket, wheels, words
so who’s next?
your best friend, your sister, you?
hey kids, get rid of your guns before it’s too late

- quelle chris lyrics

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