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Album: Miscellaneous (1995)
Artists: Goodie Mob

  1. Beatiful Skin
  2. Black Ice
  3. Blood
  4. Cee-Lo
  5. Cell Therapy
  6. Chain Swang
  7. Dirty South
  8. Distant Wilderness
  9. Fighting
  10. Fly Away
  11. Free
  12. Funeral
  13. Ghetto-ology
  14. Goodie Bag
  15. Greeny Green
  16. Guess Who?
  17. Gutta Butta
  18. I Didn't Ask to Come
  19. I Refuse Limitation
  20. Inshallah
  21. Just About Over
  22. Live at the O.M.N.I.
  23. Red Dog
  24. Rico
  25. See You When I See You
  26. Serenity Prayer
  27. Sesame Street
  28. Soul Food
  29. Still Standing
  30. The Coming
  31. The Damm
  32. The Day After
  33. The Experience
  34. They Don't Dance No Mo' (Clean)
  35. Thought Process
  36. World Party
  37. You Happy Puppet


Goodie Mob
Miscellaneous
They Don't Dance No Mo' (Clean)
They don't dance no mo'
They don't dance no mo'
(what we doin is sittin around chillin)
They don't dance no mo'
They don't dance no mo'

Verse One: Big Gipp

Yeah, uh, yeah
Did it, done it, run it, sayin "How you want it?" Leave it
when you finished let me dress it up and made it seem sweet
Like a beach in Martinique, Goodie back up on they feet
Set it straight for the nine-eight, license plate with the triple A
Callin all them cars, because the club be goin left and right
Throwin blows like them pros, runnin lows up in the night
Feelin numb from the cup I drank, holla at them thugs in the back
Baby what you lookin fo', Shawty I ain't showin no slack

Chorus: repeat 2X

People don't dance no mo'
All they do is diss/this (3X)

Verse Two: Khujo

They get off on holdin folks hostage
They good, fo' casin malls and leavin broken glass
where you park, those two inch white walls that was lit by cat eyes
Fools calm, triggers fourth and long, zone three
Deep coverage, man under
We used to break doin eighty-three
2 Live dropped, and we was Throwin That D
They don't fight with fists
They bring they piece
Pat everybody down, before they leave this piece

Chorus

Verse Three: T-Mo

Educate themselves, and went to jail, that filthy morgue
with the core, and high-powered restrainin mechanisms
Why is it? They slayin this last nigga, ready to sic em
but I stay cool,and observe them fool and let's just thank, and drank
and clear the way you think, actin out and about
that gat he pulled, that my partna sawed
And he worked quickly, was it worth it? He didn't deserve it
Predestined weapons for lessons that we learned
HOT, bullets burned

Chorus

Verse Four: Cee-Lo

Wellllll, my name is Sugar Low, and this is my trade
For years we been some players, what more can I say?
Saturday night at my dance, throw on a few clothes, uhh
Hit Atlanta live, and break a few rolls
Get some drinks, and stroll the halls, hold the walls
Just in case security can't control the brawls
I still roll the ball, but I done got a little too old
to get all sweaty dancin round wit y'alls

Chorus

Chorus

Chorus
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