Stay Gold Lyrics

(Lauryn Hill) (Chorus)
Zee, got down with Lauryn, loooong agooooo
(Yeah motherfuckers)
Dose status is where we will beeeee
(Yeah, yeah), that's where you'll find me
Sippin' Martini, my pockets swole
Stay Gold

(Young Zee)
I'll go gold if I just stay true to Newark
Get high and dust clicks like embalming fluid
My shit is loud when I drop my sound
All the angles in the clouds like "turn that shit down"

(Lauryn Hill)
These dimensions and extensions will secure my future pension
When I mention corporate lynchin's like the cowboys did to indians
The intentions of the Devil is to cause me hypertension
So stay gold like Stevie Wonder don't blunder like OJ Simpson

(Young Zee)
Yeah, Zee need to battle with the older guys
'Cause all you little niggas get pulverized
Yeah, I get ill on funky beats like Jalil
Yo posse gonna wind up in Beth Israel
Bring yo' fleet
You'll get stabbed and beat
And stomped out in the streets with my football cleats
I make a snake talk, bitch say who is it
When I climb up her walls just like number 4 lizard
What is this trash I hear?
Is it Static, like Jeru and Premiere?
Your MC style is way too oldYoung Zee ft/ Lauryn Hill, Yah Yah - Stay Gold - http://motolyrics.com/young-zee-ft-lauryn-hill-yah-yah/stay-gold-lyrics.html
I unfold pure funk as long as I stay gold

(Chorus)

(Young Zee)
I be doing 95s in horizons
Flyin, lighting up thai while I'm driving
Your company's like who the fuck is Zee
Cause I be So So Def like Jermaine Dupree

(Yah, Yah)
It's pure No Brains funks, so get your cams start recording
And +Watch how we do this+ like Montel Jordan (Watch how we dooo thiisssss)
I use freestyles when I be high on sabbticals
On old school rap, I keep trapped in time capsules
Outz motherfuckers, serving niggas like butlers
Rolling dutches, going sticking in the Cutlass
My shit rocks word to Scott La Rock
I smoke opts and drink scotch and send my style through a paradox
I'm Outz, who ya?
NBC outsidaz, this raps raw, plus there's +Moore+ then Mary Tyler

(Young Zee)
And all the sell out, fake crews that tote pistols
I can diss you and I'm only bugging like whistle
You sold your soul for a tootsie roll
Now you swole cause your LP didn't even go gold
I don't let it get next to me
I just hang out with my friend like Extra P
(Yeah Roots, DU, Ali ...)

(Chorus)