Coolio - Sticky Fingers Lyrics
Brainiac, with a zany act, cleptomaniacBefore I go to work I smoke me a fat sackOf indo, then climb through the windowAnd eye the vcr, and load it in the pinto, huh!Yes Im on my way to the baitOr should I say the pawn shop, but I dont smoke rocksSome people say Im crazy and they think Im on crackCause I hock all the shit and I never get it backCoolio loco, you better call broncoStole a link from my auntie, and sold it to my uncleTook the flowers from a hearse, romanced a nursePut the girl to sleep then I went through her purseBandit, underhanded, yes Im skanlessSnake in the grass fool, Im taking chancesIf the price is right, you can call me a killerBefore I was a rap singer, they called me sticky finger(but hes stickin you, and takin all of you money -- guru)(I aint never got gaffled like that - jd)(dont, you blink, or ima rob your ass blind - sticky fingers)(what you doin stickin in that peoples window? - richard pryor)(gimme that...) big fat dope sack(gimme that...) ca-di-llac(gimme that...) big gold chain(thats the life, a-that I lead -- run-d.m.c.)Coolio call me shady, janky, slick rightYou and your crew better duck from my gunshotsI takes no shit, carryin no dramaIf I cant get you I bust a cap on your mommaI never had a grip, so I learn how to shopliftMy trenchcoat is long and now I got some fresh shitYeah, buddy, shts lookin goodGets much props and respect from the hoodCaps from my raps and a trunk full of hubcapsStep to the crew, and youre bound to catch a pimp slapBut I dont pimp no ***** for my doughThey got somethin I want, I just rob the hoeEarly birds catch the worm so I crow like a roosterThey follow me round the store because they know that Im a boosterTell me what you want and Ill be the stealerCall me coolio, or call me sticky fingers(coolio...)(first they do ring, now they mob ring)(told you before, you shouldnta never fell asleep - big daddy kane)(give it up, give it up, give it up)I dont wanna go to jail cause I dont like the lockupTurn out the lights and get ready for the sock upOne plus three equals four for the knockoutGot circles on that ass like a mike tyson punchoutYou better hide your shit if you wanna keep itIm driving down the street in your llac while youre sleepinI was born with a sickness, that they call brokenessNever said I was the best, but Im damn sure the locestUp, up, and away, like a rocketSome fool got shot, now Im goin through his pocketsHe wont be needin no dollars where hes goinAnd when I get to hell ima act like I dont know himIm takin everything that aint bolted to the floorAnd before I go I steal the knocker of your front doorLet me be free for Im a thief and a gangsterBefore I was a rap singer, they called me sticky fingers(yeah we want everything... do you have any dreams, we want them too)
