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Artist: Tash f/ Samuel Christian
Album:  Control Freek
Song:   A Penny For My Thoughts
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

Me and J. Wells we got a story to tell
Likwid! We writin motherfuckin books about our lives right now
Man y'all niggaz don't even read books... except mine
Let's get it in; L.C. (uhh) Likwid Crew
(Likwid, Likwid, uhh)

A.. penny for my thoughts, a nickel for my diss
A dime for my lyrics cause I spit 'em with a twist
This here baby is time for dirty dancin
If your friends ain't feelin freaky we just kick 'em out the mansion
Back to the basics, puffin on the Matrix
Take a hit of this I'll have you flyin like a spaceship
(Hey bitch!) We got somethin on the way
that'll stop you in your tracks and make you say (HEY~!)
Don't stray, L.A. is on the way
with Swift and J-Ro pancakin in a trey
All the way, handshake in Las Vegas
Thieves - you owe us more than what you gave us
Loud Records, gone in 60 seconds
We earned a lot of money, and now we recollect it
Take her to the hotel, niggaz say oh well
Rico got a story to tell about you

[Chorus: Samuel Christian]
If it ain't too much for me to ask you out
Know a place where, we can disappear
And you can leave your jacket at the door
Panties on the floor
Dress by the drawer
All I ask is leave your boots on

So when the world starts twistin in an awkward position
Where old niggaz broke and young niggaz gettin rich then
Rico steps in with a style they haven't seen
Hit 'em with Murder Dog or Robb Report magazines
Both worlds, you got the best of both
My crib is in Miami but I rep that West coast (WESTSIDE)
Toast to the boogie I'll be livin that rap life
{Pull a gang of bitches then I shake 'em like crap dice}
Pedal to the metal homey never let my brakes squeak
Truck's filled up, baby hop into the H seat
She look good, somethin I can't keep
She asked me do I rap I said "Nah I just make beats"
Lyin like a rug, nose growin like Pinnochio
She anti-social but my friends said I told ya so
Whattup hoe? Ya know how it go
The R to the I to the C to the O!


CaTash in the streets in the middle when I drop
I'm like the barbershop I take a little off the top
It's a riddle to the cops how the paper keeps streamin
Behind us tryin to blind us {*woop woop*} high beamin
"Y'all seem intoxicated"
My boy PJ got the box of fragrance (uh-huh)
Dirt bomb got the boxers hatin
It started in the 70's and ended with Reagan
Patience is a virtue, so don't make me hurt you
I'm steppin out, you steppin in on your curfew
{Earth to Rico} we seen you is failed
We need you in the party with Swift and J. Wells