Lyrics
Song: I Come Throo
Artist: Lost Souls
Album: Lost and Found
(1st Verse)
Good morning America, now I’m back in your area,
Feeling better than ever cuz my sweater tougher than leather,
Got a nine and a Beretta, my alphabetical letters,
Will give them the blues clues, you dudes, should a known better, yeah
Whenever you ready, on your mark get set go,
Got them baby kids hollering that, “We love Lost Souls”
We hate they baby mama’s, but we love the kids,
Got to be the hardest working rap artist, nobody beats the Biz like,
AH, AH, AH, AH, AH
In other words we stay busy, sweating and dancing on stage like my name was P.Diddy,
Silly, Ini Minni Minee Moe, we leaving them walking bare toed,
In a single file line one, two, here we go yo,
We taking them back in the days like finger waves and corn rolls,
Re run doing the bebop in a pair of Reeboks, WO!
This the way it go down, Ted Dancing around the whole town,
Nobody wants to see me, NO. Push them away and back them down…
(Chorus) 2X
I Come Throo, acting bad with my pants on sag,
Popping my peez, you heard I got my swagger back, WHOO!
Do the running man, do the smurf do the wop,
Donkey rope gold chains, Gucci suites its hip hop, yeah!
(2nd Verse)
I’m tore up from the floor up, hoping nobody know us,
In the club, broads off that GHB loosing focus,
Incredible Hulk fighting with club owners and promoters,
I’m cutting thru line, getting hemmed up, I’m still zoning,
Peep my portfolio, you punk poonie, dancing with your baby mama son I know she want to do me,
The rules getting crunk, smell skunk and pussy funk,
See gangsters and sluts, booties and blunts, bandannas and cunt’s,
Sipping Tequila out her belly button,
“That’s Lost Souls!”
Dipping in a decked out wrapped van, Atari playing Pac man,
Got all of the girls from Daly City with me,
It’s packed man, millennium thug’s knuckle up,
I said shut the f-ck up, hater’s start to boss up,
Hoes throw your margarita, black broads and Latina,
Sipping Pina Colada with a Filipino named La, La
Had to beat her like a piñata, you aint my baby mama….
(Chorus)
(3rd Verse)
I be the type to get the parking lot pimping, while I’m smoking on some of this herb,
Me and my dudes is absurd, I aint from the suburb, but I’m about to get a suburban,
With your girlfriend in the passenger seat burping, swerving, perving, off a bottle of bourbon,
Disturbing the peace, with beat, banging from my stereo, my wheels stay spinning,
And my weed keep burning, smoke got my face, looking more stoned than Mt. Rushmore,
Puff, puff, pass like Jennifer Lopez, I love to smoke and you know this man,
Anybody wants to fade twenty twin, twin,
You provide the smoke; I’ll bring the bottle of Hen,
Everybody in the house getting high tonight,
When they turn off the lights the punch gone get spiked,
Who keeping it crackalacking without the glass pipe,
Roll up the swisher sweet and make sure that its righteous man…….
