"Side Line" as written by and "matlin Thornton"....
Yeah, what's up, what's up, Money?
It's Kool Keith
You ever go to some girl's house
And they act like they livin' lavish

Two-thousand extreme with space chandeliers
I mean rugs, I mean just everything all over the carpet
With updated nineteen seventy-five music playing
I'm pulling all your programs
That's right, all you materialistic robots prepare

Yo, I seen ya girl last night, flat butt is wack, skinny hips
Bald head, weave with the ashy lips
Wig in the back seat with pay-less shoes on her feet
Dirty Jeans with mildew spots in the washing machine

Roommates with no place, babies crying, pissy pampers
Roaches and flies, funky panties hanging out the hamper
Three big head boys but one's got to go to school
Her youngest daughter hair braided, lookin' like a fool

Empty refrigerator, family chew up now an laters
No TV, just me there and I'm the MC
No gas, electric work, the house smell make my head hurt
Spots on the carpet, station wagon at the supermarket
With stamps on deck, with beads around this girl's neck
I crack a forty ounce, watch the ants, mouses bounces

Yeah, yeah
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand

I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand

Daisy Dukes with stretch marks, her hair back in a bun
Cookin' pork and beans, some stale franks in the sun
Kids ain't listenin', Little Danny's got a hard head
Bugs are crawlin', cables all smell like pee in the bed

Old clothes ain't clean, the bathroom scent is all toes
Athlete's feet, no door mats with water off the street
Spraying the fungus, the living room is humongous
School lunch on the floor, baby vomit atomic

Raviolis with an old bowl of guacamole, Cap'n Crunch
No milk, chase it with some fruit punch
Dish washing liquid, cups of grease
I ain't tryin' to get whipped straightening combs

I think hair is all over the sink, tampons in the garbage can
The house is hot, rent no fan
Air condition is doomed with blunt smoke is in the room
Fix all your nose snot rags, pouring Cheerios

No toilet tissue, baby, wipe your mom left a missile
Acting fly I scoped a monkey with my human eye
Dead up I'm serious, the Meatloaf ain't got me curious
Dry turkey wings on the couch, the cat ate everything
You think you livin', tryin' to dress up like Robin Givens

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand

I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand

No bills are paid, just cabinets packed full with Kool-aid
Wonder Bread I throw back, just missed over ya head
Sardines with old shrimp, tuna fish is ludicrous
Idaho potatoes, a bag full of spoilt tomatoes

Neighbors borrow, send the kids over, need sugar
Little Tonika's at the door her face full of boogers
Colt forty-five on the table, a six pack of Miller
Fake Barbecues, honeys walkin' around like gorillas

Stretch marks in action, stomach bumps look like mumps
Popeye's chicken on the stove with the puppy lickin'
Everybody watching black and white tube tonight
No color intentions, plastic bag, hair extensions
I grab a record from Rick, play the Fifth Dimensions

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand

I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line
The year two-thousand
I bring the ruckus straight from the side line




Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Side Line" as written by "matlin Thornton"

Lyrics © THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY

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Side Line song meanings
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