Redman I Got a Seecret Lyrics

Doc's da Name 2000 Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Welcome 2 da Bricks
  • 2 Let da Monkey Out
  • 3 I'll Bee Dat!
  • 4 Get It Live
  • 5 Who Took da Satellite Van (skit)
  • 6 Jersey Yo!
  • 7 Cloze Ya Doors
  • 8 I Don't Kare
  • 9 Boodah Break
  • 10 Million Chicken March (2 Hot 4 TV) (skit)
  • 11 Keep On '99
  • 12 Well All Rite Cha
  • 13 Pain in da Ass Stewardess (skit)
  • 14 Da Goodness
  • 15 My Zone!
  • 16 Da Da DaHHH
  • 17 G.P.N. (skit)
  • 18 Down South Funk
  • 19 D.O.G.S.
  • 20 Beet Drop
  • 21 We Got da Satellite Van (skit)
  • 22 Brick City Mashin'!
  • 23 Soopaman Lova IV
  • 24 I Got a Seecret
  • Damn
    Ladies.. and gentlemen
    I got a secret
    Somebody told me yo' ass stink!
    Don't blame me!

    Hah, what, huh..
    Ah, one two three four
    Huh, huh, yo
    Huh, yo yo yo yo yo yo
    (c'mere baby)
    Yo, yo yo, yo yo, yo
    Yo huh

    Yeah yi-yeah, these metaphors be broad
    Take the Shanks out of Shaw Redemption and hold it to your jaw
    Climb aboard, jump out the ninety-ninth floor
    That bitch on the salt box, know when I rain I pour
    Shoot up the Mardi Gras with double chrome forty-fours
    Full up plates, cause someone I'm ready to take yours!
    Jungle music got my mind and body stimulatin
    Hyperventilatin, you're talk of the town like date rapin
    Call me the Doc-casian Spot, The Beatles
    Malfunction in the SL Board without the EQ
    Fuck fuck fuck bitch I'll bust a nut all over that gut
    Buck buck buck souflee you lay you then I'm hittin that clutch
    in da black truck, what, fuck yo' back up
    My dubs be filled with dust when I bust you definitely feel
    the rapture.. ha ha.. HA HAH.. HA HAH!

    Aiyyo! Feel what I feel, see what I see son
    Break your neck - secretly blown, talico style Doc
    Trace the sketch - according to verbal recording hot
    Bricks underground detox fuck up farm crops
    Yo beautiful! Cut the cabbage and sell it as pharmeceuticals
    I react - the baddest juvenile bite off his cuticles
    I'm stone, to the bone, flip poems that roam further
    I serve the murder then beef it to ham-burger
    Redman skats, I can't follow it but I'm only kidding
    Knowin god damn well that's hard to spit
    Fans call me mix tape arsonist, marvelous, in the hood
    Everyday, wanna star? Check an astrologist
    Fuck fuck fuck bitch I'll bust a nut all over that gut
    Buck buck buck souflee you lay you then I'm hittin that clutch
    You know, papi chulo with the fucked up grammar
    So much spanish ass, niggaz think I own Copa Cabana
    Shot up Santa, got more tools than, Hanna Barbera, check it
    The clues I left was hard for cops to Etch-a-Sketch it
    Serial killer that tracks pussy in every borough
    Kidnap ya, tie ya down, drug ya, kiss the girls
    Klack automatics no matter the pressure the static (KLACK)
    I blow you by two miles, cut my lights and hit the hazards
    Fatal, duckin from pussy police in LeSables
    Biggest thing since getting earrings pierced in your navel

    High, Funk Doc, Roni Size keep the herb twistin
    And now get the Ampegs real hot like jerk chicken
    Ha ha.. alright one more time..

    (c'mere baby)

    Written by: Reggie Noble, R. Size
    Lyrics © DELLA MUSIC PUBLISHING, LLC

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