Sticky Fingers

Brainiac, with a zany act, cleptomaniac Before I go to work, I smoke me a fat sack Of indo, then climb through the window And eye the VCR, and load it in the pinto huh! Yes I'm on my way to the bait Or should I say the pawn shop, but I don't smoke rocks Some people say I'm crazy and they think I'm on crack 'Cause I hock all the shit and I never get it back Coolio loco, you better call bronco Stole a link from my auntie, and sold it to my uncle Took the flowers from a hearse, romanced a nurse Put the girl to sleep, then I went through her purse Bandit, underhanded, yes I'm scanless Snake in the grass fool, I'm taking chances If the price is right, you can call me a killer Before I was a rap singer, they called me sticky finger ("But he's stickin you, and takin' all of you money") ("I ain't never got gaffled like that") ("Don't, you blink, or I'ma rob your ass blind") ("What you doin stickin' in that people's window?") (Gimme that) big fat dope sack (Gimme that) ca-di-llac (Gimme that) big gold chain (That's the life, that I lead) Coolio call me shady, janky, slick right You and your crew better duck from my gunshots I takes no shit, carryin' no drama If I can't get you, I bust a cap on your momma I never had a grip, so I learn how to shoplift My trenchcoat is long and now I got some fresh shit Yeah, buddy, shit's looking good Gets much props and respect from the hood Caps from my raps and a trunk full of hubcaps Step to the crew, and you're bound to catch a pimp slap But I don't pimp no b- for my dough They got somethin I want, I just rob the h- Early birds catch the worm, so I crow like a rooster They follow me round the store because they know that I'm a booster Tell me what you want and I'll be the stealer Call me Coolio, or call me sticky fingers (Coolio, a motherf- black dawg) (First they do' ring, now they mob ring) (Told you before, you shouldn't never fell asleep) (Give it up, give it up, give it up) I don't wanna go to jail, 'cause I don't like the lockup Turn out the lights and get ready for the sock up One plus three equals four for the knockout Got circles on that ass like a Mike Tyson punchout You better hide your shit, if you wanna keep it I'm driving down the street in your 'llac while you're sleepin' I was born with a sickness, that they call brokeness Never said I was the best, but I'm damn sure the loc'est Up, up, and away, like a rocket Some fool got shot, now I'm goin' through his pockets He won't be needing no dollars where he's going And when I get to hell, I'ma act like I don't know him I'm taking everything that ain't bolted to the floor And before I go, I steal the knocker of your front door Let me be free for I'm a thief and a gangster Before I was a rap singer, they called me sticky fingers (Yeah we want everything, do you have any dreams, we want them too)