kool a.d. – wow (bay shit) lyrics
[hook x4]
wow
bay sh-t (wow)
be quiet, grown folks finna say sh-t
[verse 1: trackademicks]
(trackademicks)
she asked me if i make hits
i replied “do elton john hate t-ts?” (yup)
don’t deny, i got slap for days, pound for pound
put me up against the best and i’ll beat myself down
eye of the tiger, stripes of a bengal
don’t matter where you look, i’m covering every single angle
polyrhythmatic, smashing through traffic
slapping d-lo, no ho with a bad b-tch
avid with reason, [mackish?] with logic
have her lip-locking like we trapped in the closet
they have your body bumping like you trapped in a mosh pit
then back on the grind time, faster than ostrich
p-ssion or profit? the answer is obvious
you must have a pair when you’re matching your socks, b-tch
trackademicks slaps knock cats unconscious
these marks can’t see me, they lack the optometrist
i’m a bay boy, playboy
i take toys that make noise and lay voice to brain joy
see, see, see how she smiling?
got my number, ooh, look, now she dialing
uh-oh, look how i’m diving in
i’m not a crook, what i took he wasn’t hiding in
yup, yup, and she was fine with it
i’m talking finer than the shine from off a diamond chip
yeah
[hook]
[verse 2: kool a.d.]
wow
bay sh-t
kool a.d., grown man finna say sh-t
our makeshifts take off like sp-ceships
y’all play this straight soft, i’m lay’s chips
greasy, too easy
kool a.d. from the s.f. breezy
you hate me ‘cause i flex so freely
fools lately want to test my feelings
meanwhile i’m trying to test my ceiling
used to move cess, now i’m stress-free dealing
laid back, i’m a beach boy
i’m a lime to a lemon, you a peach, boy
i’m a beach boy, good vibrations
good god, godd-mn, soul vibrations
why hate it when you really could be loving it
we holding that heat like the oven mitt
leave the p-ssy crooked like the p-ssy was the government
beat the p-ssy up up up like loverance
kool a.d. on some other sh-t, other other sh-t
tell your mom, tell your sister, tell your brother, sh-t
just don’t tell your girl, though, she on a brother d-
the brother vic finna go pub-a-lic, couple pots bubblin’
yup
[hook]
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