paroles de chanson Grooveline, Part 1 - Curren$y , DOM KENNEDY , ScHoolboy Q
[Intro:]
(Strolling
in
the
park)
Cause
you
never
met
or
seen
a
nigga
quite
like
me
You
need
a
gangsta
baby
- ayyy
Just
tryna
give
it
to
ya
(Walking
in
the
dark)
A
groovy
nigga
that's
way
too
G
(Tryna
tell
you
baby!)
[Verse
1:
Schoolboy
Q]
He
might
say
cause
but
he
ain't
fucking
with
cause
Yea
I'm
Q
But
you
can
call
me
Quincy
if
you
want
or
whatever
baby,
it's
all
love
Fuck
all
that
rapping
- Let
me
talk
to
you
Book
you
a
ticket
so
we
can
kick
it
Make
an
escape
somewhere
we'll
be
safe
Close
your
purse,
I
got
my
Visa
on
me
Pick
out
whatever,
it
ain't
shit
but
money
Turn
you
to
my
honey
Take
off
my
(saboteur?),
wipe
your
nose
for
ya
Climb
a
mountain
in
the
snow
for
ya
You
see
these
dummies
always
cut
you
lose,
but
so
much
that
a
G
can
do
Hit
the
weed,
have
a
drink
or
two
I
pay
attention,
I
can
listen
too
- You
say
he
fucking
who?
Fresh
out
the
shower,
let
me
smell
your
hair
Garnier
Fructis
got
my
knees
weak,
let's
cuddle
in
these
sheets
Let
me
hold
you
for
a
moment,
it
feels
right,
don't
it?
From
a
lost
child
to
a
woman
Eye
contact
and
soft
kisses
Strong
grip,
she
want
a
gangsta,
on
crip
[Hook:
Schoolboy
Q]
(Strolling
in
the
party)
Cause
you
never
met
or
seen
a
nigga
quite
like
me
Just
tryna
give
it
to
ya
(Walking
in
the
dark)
A
groovy
nigga
that's
way
too
G
(Tryna
tell
you
baby!)
[Verse
2:
Dom
Kennedy]
A
5'3"
stallion
Daddy
was
from
Harlem,
Her
momma
was
Italian
I
don't
see
the
challenge
of
having
two
girls,
you
just
gotta
keep
the
balance
I
told
her
light
that
candle,
I
heard
you
do
yoga,
I'm
tryna
see
examples
Yo
ass
is
like
a
handle,
see
us
on
the
front
page,
that'll
be
a
scandal
Take
off
this
red
shirt,
then
my
flannel
I
need
some
head
first,
then
I'm
a
fuck
you
in
them
sandals
Hit
the
coochie
like
a
dime
sack
- ain't
those
Gucci,
didn't
I
buy
that?
Close
your
eyes,
go
and
try
that
You
only
live
once
and
I
know
I
got
you
soaking
wet
Is
the
liquor
store
open
yet,
I
need
some
moet
to
pour
it
on
yo
ass
like
a
paint
Back
shots
leave
the
pussy
shaking
- this
my
open
invitation
In
the
morning,
make
my
toast
with
fresh
orange
juice
and
turkey
bacon,
bitch
[Hook]
[Verse
3:
Curren$y]
Underground
Royal
Flow
over
they
heads
- air
duct
Upper
crust,
toast
bread
Talk
of
the
town,
thinking
you
know
everything
'bout
A
nigga
cause
them
bitches
talk
loud
in
them
beauty
shop
Gossip
before
your
man
came
get
ya
Youtube
clips
can't
show
it
all
Come
and
get
down
if
you
really
wan'
get
up,
baby
doll
Ain't
nobody
'round
to
judge,
go
on
Get
if
off
your
chest,
vent,
come
up
out
that
dress,
bitch
She
ain't
take
offense
Proceeded
to
take
hits
of
the
pregame
twist,
smoke
out,
smash
Grub
a
little
bit,
pass
out,
post-game
events
Too
high
to
find
the
remote,
fell
asleep
to
a
infomercial
Woke
up
in
her
mouth,
reruns
of
Full
House,
followed
by
some
Urkel
OG
my
strain,
rarely
do
I
blaze
purple
Some
of
them
growers
be
in
a
rush,
fucking
the
game
up
You
gon'
learn
about
all
that
stuff
long
as
you
hang
around
us
Go
on
roll
up
[Hook]
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