Where's Da G's - Dizzee Rascal (迪兹·雷斯科)

Dirty stank yeah man

I know that you think you're foolin

But you ain't foolin me man

I don't give a sh*t man I'm out here man

Wherever you want man

Sweat or f**kin blood man

Liar liar pants on fire

You're not gangsta you're not street

You just make yourself sound gangsta

When you're rappin on the beat

You ain't got yourself in no

Life threatenin situations yet

You're no dealer you're not ballin

You just get yourself in debt

You're a fan of hip hop wankin

When you hear them rappers talk

Love to sit and listen

But we know that you don't walk the walk

What's with all the fake aggression

I can see that it's not true

I know killers I know gangsters

And they never heard of you

You ain't robbed nobody shanked nobody

You ain't bust no gun

You ain't seen no ghetto action

Who do you think you foolin son

You should pull your trousers up

You know it ain't your type of look

You're no playa you're no pimp

I think that you should read a book

And seckle

Find yourself a pretty girl and settle

You know that if it's on

That you ain't drawin for no metal

I know them rap songs got you thinkin

You're some kind of G

Well if that's the case then que sera

And what will be will be boy

Where's the G's Where's the stars

Where's the whips Where's the cars

Where's that cribs and where's the yards

Cause all I see is hype

Where's the dough Where's the cash

Where's the hoes Where's the gash

Where's the blicks and where's the mash

Cause all I see is hype

Too many moots on the TV

How many real crooks on the TV

All I hear is dead hooks on the TV

Bein real these days ain't easy

Too many moots on the TV

How many real crooks on the TV

All I see is bare poop on the TV

Bein real these days ain't easy

Well it's big Bun B and I'm back again

Talkin that sh*t on the track again

Too many motherf**kers be lyin about

Sellin buyin and traffickin

I'm like really though what's happenin

You boys talk about that crack again

Cause we don't believe you need more people

Y'all might as well just pack it in

Show me the paper you're stackin in

Show me the blocks you got on hold

Show me your workers show me your shooters

Lemme see the neighborhood you control

Lemme see if you a boss

And if motherf**kers is scared of you

And if somebody tryin to take your sh*t

Let me see what you prepared to do

Are you ready to go to war

Are you ready to shoot to kill

Are you really gon' man-up or b**ch-up

Just tell the truth for real

Are you ready to take a life

Walk up to 'em and squeeze the trigger

I don't think so cause you ain't built like that

So just be easy ni**a

Cause you know you ain't 'bout no drama

And you know that you really don't want it

So stay the f**k out of the way

When them trill-a** niggas is on it

Dizzee Ras and UGK

You know we stay connected

Trill recognize trill so just respect it

And check it and tell me

Where's the G's Where's the stars

Where's the whips Where's the cars

Where's that cribs and where's the yards

Cause all I see is hype

Where's the dough Where's the cash

Where's the hoes Where's the gash

Where's the blicks and where's the mash

Cause all I see is hype

Too many moots on the TV

How many real crooks on the TV

All I hear is dead hooks on the TV

Bein real these days ain't easy

Too many moots on the TV

How many real crooks on the TV

All I see is bare poop on the TV

Bein real these days ain't easy

Where the Benz and where the hoes

Candy niggas with candy clothes

Where the coc*ine where the o's

Where the SoundScan where the shows

You's a pimp b**ch where the track

Where the diamonds and where the Lac

You say that you in hot pursuit

But I ain't never seen you with a prostitute

I got everythin I say

Don't believe me ask Lil' J

On the West ask Ice-T

F**k good but my dick ain't free

So hood I used to whip the D

Patron and wood when I'm in the B

Sweet Jones Tony Snow Percy Mack Pimp C

B**ch I got a bunch of names

Gettin head in the H O V lane

Gettin red I let my nuts hang

Wear a lot of red but it ain't no gang

Chased by the Feds but it ain't no thang

I guess they think I still sell coc*ine

92 carrots in my chain

Jumpin out a red-candy thin

Never snitch never tell

Get caught up go back to jail

Before I tell them hoes sh*t

F**k the law they can eat my dick

The main niggas that pop the trunk

Go to the pen and get with them punks

Then come home tryin to act tough

When they was up there gettin f**ked in the butt

Where's the G's Where's the stars

Where's the whips Where's the cars

Where's that cribs and where's the yards

Cause all I see is hype

Where's the dough Where's the cash

Where's the hoes Where's the gash

Where's the blicks and where's the mash

Cause all I see is hype

Too many moots on the TV

How many real crooks on the TV

All I hear is dead hooks on the TV

Bein real these days ain't easy

Too many moots on the TV

How many real crooks on the TV

All I see is bare poop on the TV

Bein real these days ain't easy