Fat Gold Chain Lyrics
| Song | Fat Gold Chain |
| Artist | Def Squad |
| Album | Def Squad Presents Erick Onasis |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Whoo! uhh, ah ah, ayahhh, ahh ahh ahh | |
| And you don't stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bond | |
| Now introducin the sound from the ghetto | |
| E double and too $hort, what the ***** you thought? | |
| I come with the ruckus, it's my thing when i swing | |
| I'm born to mack, always strapped, with the black gat | |
| Who out there i swear boy wanna get touched | |
| Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so duck | |
| I talk the talk, walk the walk, now ***** | |
| Five hundred s drivin with hand on trigger | |
| Crazy lestat, check my track record | |
| Everything i touch is gold since eighteen years old | |
| So what that mean? i rolled the blunt | |
| And puff the indo smoke in it, i trip in a minute | |
| Crazy holy doctor holdin me cuz i be rockin b | |
| Sewin up like monopoly, nobody's stoppin me | |
| Dig it, funkdafied like brat, how's that? | |
| I stick and move on tracks while i smoke a twenty sack | |
| Who said the e can't rock? that's bull*****t | |
| Suck my ***** and get a big fat lick of my ***** | |
| You wanna brawl? punk i thought not | |
| You might get beat down and stomped like sasquatch | |
| Your girl, like keith sweat, i wanna ***** her | |
| Psych, i already stuck her | |
| Huh, i got rhymes to make your whole head swell up | |
| Here's an icepack - homeboy shut the hell up | |
| I rock the mic with too $hort, y'all *****z know what's happenin | |
| Everything he touch goes platinum | |
| Eyeeaaaah! | |
| [too $hort] | |
| I made a half a million in a week | |
| And every ***** on the street got a tape playin me | |
| You can't believe it? erick sermon, rollin with $hort | |
| Rolled from california all the way to new york | |
| In big benzes, g hooked it up | |
| Now we trying to squash all that east/west stuff | |
| We spent years in the studio makin funky tracks | |
| Signed a bunch of *****z with some tight ass raps | |
| It's like father dom, it's like keith murray | |
| Makin millionaires but it ain't no hurry | |
| Cause we all in it for the long run | |
| I won't leave the studio until a song's done | |
| And ain't nuthin really hard about gettin my cash | |
| A big fat house with a million stashed | |
| You other *****z got this rap game distorted | |
| Givin dat's to the label, straight gettin shorted | |
| Claim you gettin paid, but i can't tell | |
| You keep rappin in my ear and got me mad as hell | |
| You talk a good game but i don't believe in you | |
| You smoked a lotta blunts but i got mo' ***** than you | |
| I guess i see you on the charts in the meanwhile | |
| Another face in the crowd bustin freestyles | |
| Wi*****n you could be in the light | |
| Promoters pay me ten g's just to breathe on the mic | |
| *****! $hort dawg puttin it down with the e double | |
| [erick onasis] | |
| Shhhhh! you remind me of my fat gold chain | |
| Some of y'all are just small change | |
| Be a boss with true true game | |
| Yeah yeah | |
| Dig this y'all, my music is dangerous | |
| Atomic dog, coming through the smog with $hort dawg | |
| Ahhh! quick with the trig jack be nimble | |
| I shoot like g mob goes liftin through my window | |
| Chik chik pow! how you like me now? | |
| The man in the mirror it don't get no clearer | |
| $hort dawg, the e double, and breed we roll thick | |
| Like girls in c.a.u. with the good power-u | |
| Owww! money is the key to fame | |
| So i can live it up with the girls on soul train | |
| The impact, major league dough like dave justice | |
| Yo breed, $hort dawg, show em how we bust this | |
| [too $hort] | |
| Like some true pioneers, don't forget it some ***** |
| Whoo! uhh, ah ah, ayahhh, ahh ahh ahh | |
| And you don' t stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bond | |
| Now introducin the sound from the ghetto | |
| E double and too hort, what the you thought? | |
| I come with the ruckus, it' s my thing when i swing | |
| I' m born to mack, always strapped, with the black gat | |
| Who out there i swear boy wanna get touched | |
| Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so duck | |
| I talk the talk, walk the walk, now | |
| Five hundred s drivin with hand on trigger | |
| Crazy lestat, check my track record | |
| Everything i touch is gold since eighteen years old | |
| So what that mean? i rolled the blunt | |
| And puff the indo smoke in it, i trip in a minute | |
| Crazy holy doctor holdin me cuz i be rockin b | |
| Sewin up like monopoly, nobody' s stoppin me | |
| Dig it, funkdafied like brat, how' s that? | |
| I stick and move on tracks while i smoke a twenty sack | |
| Who said the e can' t rock? that' s bull t | |
| Suck my and get a big fat lick of my | |
| You wanna brawl? punk i thought not | |
| You might get beat down and stomped like sasquatch | |
| Your girl, like keith sweat, i wanna her | |
| Psych, i already stuck her | |
| Huh, i got rhymes to make your whole head swell up | |
| Here' s an icepack homeboy shut the hell up | |
| I rock the mic with too hort, y' all z know what' s happenin | |
| Everything he touch goes platinum | |
| Eyeeaaaah! | |
| too hort | |
| I made a half a million in a week | |
| And every on the street got a tape playin me | |
| You can' t believe it? erick sermon, rollin with hort | |
| Rolled from california all the way to new york | |
| In big benzes, g hooked it up | |
| Now we trying to squash all that east west stuff | |
| We spent years in the studio makin funky tracks | |
| Signed a bunch of z with some tight ass raps | |
| It' s like father dom, it' s like keith murray | |
| Makin millionaires but it ain' t no hurry | |
| Cause we all in it for the long run | |
| I won' t leave the studio until a song' s done | |
| And ain' t nuthin really hard about gettin my cash | |
| A big fat house with a million stashed | |
| You other z got this rap game distorted | |
| Givin dat' s to the label, straight gettin shorted | |
| Claim you gettin paid, but i can' t tell | |
| You keep rappin in my ear and got me mad as hell | |
| You talk a good game but i don' t believe in you | |
| You smoked a lotta blunts but i got mo' than you | |
| I guess i see you on the charts in the meanwhile | |
| Another face in the crowd bustin freestyles | |
| Wi n you could be in the light | |
| Promoters pay me ten g' s just to breathe on the mic | |
| ! hort dawg puttin it down with the e double | |
| erick onasis | |
| Shhhhh! you remind me of my fat gold chain | |
| Some of y' all are just small change | |
| Be a boss with true true game | |
| Yeah yeah | |
| Dig this y' all, my music is dangerous | |
| Atomic dog, coming through the smog with hort dawg | |
| Ahhh! quick with the trig jack be nimble | |
| I shoot like g mob goes liftin through my window | |
| Chik chik pow! how you like me now? | |
| The man in the mirror it don' t get no clearer | |
| hort dawg, the e double, and breed we roll thick | |
| Like girls in c. a. u. with the good poweru | |
| Owww! money is the key to fame | |
| So i can live it up with the girls on soul train | |
| The impact, major league dough like dave justice | |
| Yo breed, hort dawg, show em how we bust this | |
| too hort | |
| Like some true pioneers, don' t forget it some |
| Whoo! uhh, ah ah, ayahhh, ahh ahh ahh | |
| And you don' t stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bond | |
| Now introducin the sound from the ghetto | |
| E double and too hort, what the you thought? | |
| I come with the ruckus, it' s my thing when i swing | |
| I' m born to mack, always strapped, with the black gat | |
| Who out there i swear boy wanna get touched | |
| Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so duck | |
| I talk the talk, walk the walk, now | |
| Five hundred s drivin with hand on trigger | |
| Crazy lestat, check my track record | |
| Everything i touch is gold since eighteen years old | |
| So what that mean? i rolled the blunt | |
| And puff the indo smoke in it, i trip in a minute | |
| Crazy holy doctor holdin me cuz i be rockin b | |
| Sewin up like monopoly, nobody' s stoppin me | |
| Dig it, funkdafied like brat, how' s that? | |
| I stick and move on tracks while i smoke a twenty sack | |
| Who said the e can' t rock? that' s bull t | |
| Suck my and get a big fat lick of my | |
| You wanna brawl? punk i thought not | |
| You might get beat down and stomped like sasquatch | |
| Your girl, like keith sweat, i wanna her | |
| Psych, i already stuck her | |
| Huh, i got rhymes to make your whole head swell up | |
| Here' s an icepack homeboy shut the hell up | |
| I rock the mic with too hort, y' all z know what' s happenin | |
| Everything he touch goes platinum | |
| Eyeeaaaah! | |
| too hort | |
| I made a half a million in a week | |
| And every on the street got a tape playin me | |
| You can' t believe it? erick sermon, rollin with hort | |
| Rolled from california all the way to new york | |
| In big benzes, g hooked it up | |
| Now we trying to squash all that east west stuff | |
| We spent years in the studio makin funky tracks | |
| Signed a bunch of z with some tight ass raps | |
| It' s like father dom, it' s like keith murray | |
| Makin millionaires but it ain' t no hurry | |
| Cause we all in it for the long run | |
| I won' t leave the studio until a song' s done | |
| And ain' t nuthin really hard about gettin my cash | |
| A big fat house with a million stashed | |
| You other z got this rap game distorted | |
| Givin dat' s to the label, straight gettin shorted | |
| Claim you gettin paid, but i can' t tell | |
| You keep rappin in my ear and got me mad as hell | |
| You talk a good game but i don' t believe in you | |
| You smoked a lotta blunts but i got mo' than you | |
| I guess i see you on the charts in the meanwhile | |
| Another face in the crowd bustin freestyles | |
| Wi n you could be in the light | |
| Promoters pay me ten g' s just to breathe on the mic | |
| ! hort dawg puttin it down with the e double | |
| erick onasis | |
| Shhhhh! you remind me of my fat gold chain | |
| Some of y' all are just small change | |
| Be a boss with true true game | |
| Yeah yeah | |
| Dig this y' all, my music is dangerous | |
| Atomic dog, coming through the smog with hort dawg | |
| Ahhh! quick with the trig jack be nimble | |
| I shoot like g mob goes liftin through my window | |
| Chik chik pow! how you like me now? | |
| The man in the mirror it don' t get no clearer | |
| hort dawg, the e double, and breed we roll thick | |
| Like girls in c. a. u. with the good poweru | |
| Owww! money is the key to fame | |
| So i can live it up with the girls on soul train | |
| The impact, major league dough like dave justice | |
| Yo breed, hort dawg, show em how we bust this | |
| too hort | |
| Like some true pioneers, don' t forget it some |
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