Outkast- JazzyBelle

Yeah
Oh yes I love her like Egyptian, want a description, my royal highness
So many plusses when I bust that there can't be no minus
Went from yellin crickets and crows, bitches and hoes to queen thangs
Over the years I been up on my toes and yes I seen thangs
like Kilroy, chill boi because them folks might think you soft
talkin like that, man **** them niggaz I'm goin off
and comin right back, like boomerangs when you throw em
With these old ghetto poems, Bankhead is better for em
When they can let they throw em, down from hitchikin and bitin niggaz
until the temple they call the body, now everybody got it
Had it, talked about it amongst they friends
Comin around my crew lookin Jazzy, wanna pretend
like you Ms. Goodie, Four-Shoes, even Bo knew, that you got caught
like accupuncture patients while our nation is a boat
Straight sinkin, I hate thinkin that these the future mommas
of our chillun, they ****in a different nigga every time
they get the feelin to, I'm willin to go the extra kilo-meter
just to see my senorita get her pillow
on the side of my bed where no good ever stay
House and doctor was the games we used to play
but now it's real Jazzy Belle...

[Verse Two: Big Boi]

See what if you was a playa real playa not no slouch
Havin the very best of life lots of steak and Perignon
Smokin an ounce of weed yeah every single day was personal FreakNik
Freakin these hoes in Polo clothes life as you conceived it
but your conception, deception, lookin into your watch I see
you weapon and it's depressin, they're diggin up in your thighs
leavin deposits keep your closets open not your boots and drawers
Hopin to get you sprung like bell-bottoms, steadily callin me Antwan
cause you thinkin that you my lady bitch don't play me cause you're chanky
I wanted to hit that ass but me and the Goodie we got danky
So thank thee, you runnin that Southerplayalistic game
You was the only one to blame, a nigga don't even know yo' name
it's a shame, you crackin em up and ****in a nigga like Tupac up
I'm leavin these foes to be the flowers and wake don't get me see
I gotta be feedin my daughter, teach her to be that Natural Woman
Cause you'll be Waiting to Exhale while you other hoes be
Dumb and Dumber, yeah you know what I'm sayin?

[Verse Three: Andre, Big Boi]

One two, yessss, ummkay, check this out right here now
See me ain't no good, in the black on black 'Llac no star
Windows are tinted so that no one knows who us are
Talk bad about her nigga guaranteed to snap like bra
Strap stickin together like grandma and grandpa-pa
In this dog eat dog world, kitty cats be scratchin on my
furry coat to curl, up with me and my bowl of kibbles and bits
I want to earl, cause most of the girls that we was likin
in high school, now they dykein *laughin*

Havin no mercy for the disrespect-ful ones, some
be hangin around the crew lookin for funds, dumb
deaf and fine, they be, askin me all about mine
How she doin how she be, I know she's sippin that wine
behind my back they skwak like vultures
Off and On like Trendz of Cultures baby
hey he, fakin it like these sculptured, nails
But they can go to hell and lay with Lucifer
Cause they burnin anyway, Big Boi user and abuser

 

Outkast- Da Art Of Story Tellin Part 2

Yea yea yea yeah yah yo
Baby did you hear that yea baby I heard it too
Look out the window golly the sky is electric blue
Mamma Earth is dyin and cryin because of you
Rainin cats and jackles all shackles disintegrate to residue
Silly mortals haven't a clue
as to what the **** is goin on
I'm on the telephone dialin the Dungeon
"Hello?" This Dre bring the MP and the SP
Meet me at the center of the earth and travel carefully
Baby grab the baby cause baby it ain't much time
Mamma Earth is tossin and turnin and that's our sign
Omega Nigga IFO's are landin in Decatur
Hope I'm not over your head but if so you will catch on later
Play the track, guess she could not take it anymo'
Rapin her heavenly body like a hoe, coochie so'
from niggaz constantly ****in her never lovin her never showin
appreciation bustin nuts in her face when they done
[Big Boi]
The sky is fallin nobody ballin they done gave back they guns
for some tickets to the playoffs but the Hornets they won
Nigga we SLUM, kept all the guns, I gotta protect my family
I drove the biggest thing at the house
cause I knew they'd try to ram me, but I'm stabbing
Makin a path on expressways, the best way I know how
Up in the sky, East-West, no clouds
Him comin now, **** that money now, I ask my honey how
she feeling and is Jordan okay, yeah yeah she's chillin
We should be in the Dungeon shortly
Ain't nobody on they porch see
Approachin the final exit
I'm thinkin I see four horsies but I don't though
Nigga you WON'T know, until it's on ya
I put that on my dope boys from A-Town to California
All the weed smell like ammonia
but at the Dungeon I know they smokin
Writin the raps and doin the beats to make this last recording
**** abortion, I got in the booth to run the final portion
The beat was very dirty and the vocals had distor-TION *echoes*
{sung in a low voice over and over
All's well, nothing's well

 

"Triumph"

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
What y'all thought y'all wasn't gon' see me?
I'm the Osirus of this shit
Wu-Tang is here forever, mother****er
It's like this ninety-seven
Aight my niggaz and my niggarettes
Let's do it like this
I'ma rub your ass in the moonshine
Let's take it back to seventy-nine

[Inspectah Deck]
I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies
and hypothesis can't define how I be droppin these
mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me
Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits
tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics
I inspect you, through the future see millenium
Killa B's sold fifty gold sixty platinum
Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths
Black Wu jackets queen B's ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly
Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock
Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block

[Method Man]
As the world turns, I spread like germs
Bless the globe with the pestilence, the hard-headed never learn
It's my testament to those burned
Play my position in the game of life, standin firm
on foreign land, jump the gun out the fryin pan, into the fire
Transform into the Ghostrider, a six-pack
and +A Streetcar Named Desire+, who got my back?
In the line of fire holdin back, what?
My peoples if you with me where the **** you at?
Niggaz is strapped, and they tryin to twist my beer cap
It's court adjourned, for the bad seed from bad sperm
Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm, what the blood
clot, we smoke pot, and blow spots
You wanna think twice, I think not
The Iron Lung ain't got ta tell you where it's coming from
Guns of Navarone, tearing up your battle zone
Rip through your slums

[Cappadonna]
I twist darts from the heart, tried and true
Loop my voice on the LP, martini on the slang rocks
Certified chatterbox, vocabulary 'Donna talkin
Tell your story walkin
Take cover kid, what? Run for your brother, kid
Run for your team, and your six camp rhyme groupies
So I can squeeze with the advantage, and get wasted
My deadly notes reigns supreme
Your fort is basic compared to mine
Domino effect, arts and crafts
Paragraphs contain cyanide
Take a free ride on my dart, I got the fashion
catalogues for all y'all to all praise to the Gods

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
The saga continues
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang

[U-God]
Olympic torch flaming, we burn so sweet
The thrill of victory, the agony, defeat
We crush slow, flamin deluxe slow
For, judgment day cometh, conquer, it's war
Allow us to escape, hell glow spinning bomb
Pocket full of shells out the sky, Golden Arms
Tune spit the shitty Mortal Kombat sound
The fateful step make, the blood stain the ground
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum
A death kiss, catwalk, squeeze another anthem
Hold it for ransom, tranquilized with anesthetics
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerinas
My music Sicily, rich California smell
An axekiller adventure, paint a picture well
I sing a song from Sing-Sing, sippin on ginseng
Righteous wax chaperone, rotating ring king

[RZA]
Watch for the wooden soldiers, C-Cypher-Punks couldn't hold us
A thousand men rushing in, not one nigga was sober
Perpendicular to the square, we stand bold like Flare
Escape from your Dragon's Lair, in particular
My beats travel like a vortex, through your spine
to the top of your cerebrum cortex
Make you feel like you bust a nut from raw sex
Enter through your right ventricle clog up your bloodstream
now terminal, like Grand Central Station
Program fat baselines, on Novation
Getting drunk like a ****, I'm duckin five-year probation

[GZA]
War of the masses, the outcome, disastrous
Many of the victim family save they ashes
A million names on walls engraved in plaques
Those who went back, received penalties for the axe
Another heart is torn as close ones mourn
Those who stray, niggaz get slayed on the song

[Masta Killa]
The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds
and leaks sounds that's heard
ninety-three million miles away from came one
to represent the Nation, this is a gathering
of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage
The high chief Jamel-I-Reef take the stage
Light is provided through sparks of energy
from the mind that travels in rhyme form
Givin sight to the blind
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum
Death only one can save self from
This relentless attack of the track spares none

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo! Yo! Yo, **** that, look at all these crab niggaz laid back
Lampin like them gray and black Puma's on my man's rack
Codeine was forced in your drink
You had a Navy Green salamander fiend, bitches never heard you scream
You two-faces, scum of the slum, I got your whole body numb
Blowin like Shalamar in eighty-one
Sound convincin, thousand dollar court by convention
Hands, like Sonny Liston, get fly permission
Hold the **** up, I'll unfasten your wig, bad luck
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch
it's me, black nobled you Ali
Came in threes we like the Genovese, is that so?
Caesar needs the greens, it's Earth
Ninety-three million miles from the first
Rough turbulence, the waveburst, split the megahertz

[Raekwon]
Aiyyo that's amazing, gun in your mouth talk, verbal foul hawk
Connect thoughts to make my manchild walk
Swift notarizer, Wu-Tang, all up in the high-riser
New York Yank' visor world tranquilizer
Just a dosage, delegate my Clan with explosives
While, my pen blow lines ferocious
Mediterranean, see y'all, the number one draft pick
Tear down the beat God, then delegate the God to see God
The swift chancellor, flex, the white-gold tarantula
Track truck diesel, play the weed God, substantiala
Max mostly, undivided, then slide in, sickenin
Guaranteed, made em jump like Rod Strickland

 

Artist: Ol Dirty Bastard
Album: Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version
Song: Shimmy Shimmy Ya
Typed by: OHHLA.com

Intro:

[Oh, fu*k, you can't even sing.]

Hey, baby, I like it rawww...
Yeah baby, I like it RAWWW!!!
Ooh, baby, I like it raww...
Yeah baby, I like it RAWWW!!!
Sh...

Verse:

Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yay,
Gimme the mic so I can take it away.
Off on a natural charge, bon voyage
Yeah, from the home of the Dodgers, Brooklyn squad
Wu-Tang Killerrr Bees on a swarm!
Rain on ya dollar's ass, disco dorm!
For you to even touch my skill,
You gotta have the one Killer Bee and he ain't gonna kill. Now
My producer slam, my flow is like bam!
Chop that down, pass it all around!
Lyrics get hard, quick cement to the ground!
For any MC in any 52 states,
I gets psycho killerrrr Norman Bates!
My producer slam, sharp like bam!
Jump on stage, and then I dun-daaaah!

[I like the way you come]

Hey, baby, I like it rawww...
Yeah baby, I like it RAWWW!!!
Ooh, baby, I like it raww...
Yeah baby, I like it RAWWW!!!

Reverse Verse:

First Verse repeats

 

Nice Chris, bringin the old school. Great lyrical song.

 

Artist: Outkast
Album: ATLiens
Song: Two Dope Boyz (In a Cadillac)

Verse One: Big Boi, Andre

From the bottom of my lungs a nigga be blowin, spittin his game
Comin up on ya from the South, the A-T-Liens aint changed
Cooler than most players claim to be
A nigga that's from the A-Town see
The home of the Bankhead Bounce, Campbellton Road and other city streets
Enough of the verality, fallacy, butter we speak not fiction
Speakin of pullin yo' girl lookin at Jheri curls you bitches
Everytime I ryhme for y'all, I'm lookin to prove a point
kickin a freestyle every now and then
but mostly off the joint
See I smoke good cuz see it go good wit them flows, why
the nigga the B-I-G like Tony Rich nobody knows why
but me and my folks, cuz yall niggas jokes like the joker
I'm sick of these wack ass rappers like I'm tired of hoes in chokers

Who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion
This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin
But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs
askin where we come from...South Post Lodge

Chorus:

Its Just Two Dope Boyz In A Cadillac (2X)

Verse Two: Andre, Big Boi

This ol sucka MC stepped up to me
Challenged Andre to a battle and I stood there patiently
As he spit and stumbled over cliches, so called freestylin
Whole purpose just to make me feel low, I guess you whylin
I say look boi, I ain't for that fu*k shit; so fu*k this
Let me explain on this child style so you don't miss
I grew up to myself not round no park bench
just a nigga bustin flows off in apartments

Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion
This side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin
But in the middle we stay calm, we just drop bombs
askin where we come from...South Post slums

Chorus

Verse Three: Big Boi, Andre

It goes chromes to the Fleetwoods, Coups to the Villes
Hittin Girbauds and off these flows we havin the playa chill
In this atmosphere this ain't no practice here we cuttin the fool now
I'm doin ya at the house and throwin you out because I'm through now
Don't you love the way we clamin Bankhead, stankhead
Lookin around the SWATS for the herb that's never tainted
Fainted when you heard the bourbon servin on the block
And all you bitin indivuals need to check yourselfs and stop

Yeah tight like nuts and bolts, sluts and hoes that get evicted
I'm dealin wit Queens in my castle aint worth to risk it
Now tricks be lookin at me like I'm they way up out the pro-jects
Can't put you on my payroll, and no I ain't got no Rolex
or no diamond at the exit with a sign sayin "We'll rap for food"
My face is bawled up cuz I ain't in a happy mood
While my partner got the squeegee and the windex
Cuz somewhere in my life I done went wrong jus like a syntax
Error, bring the terror to your dome like P.E.
Prone to finish this out cuz this be a free-style

Now who dem boyz that be havin the cronk every occasion
this side niggaz dustin, that side niggaz lacin
but in the middle we stay calm
we just drop......

 

Kiko knows whats up. Outkast FTW....

 

Artist: N.W.A.
Album: Straight Outta Compton
Song: Dopeman (Remix)


Yo Dre!!

[Ice Cube]
It was once said by a man who couldn't quit
"Dopeman," please can I have another hit
The dopeman said, "Cluck, I don't give a shit
if your girl kneel down, and suck my d!ck"
It all happened and the guy tried to choke her
Nigga didn't care, she ain't nothin but a smoker
That's the way goes, that's the name of the game
Young brother gettin over by slangin 'caine
Gold around his neck in 14 K heaven
Bitches clockin on his d!ck twenty-four/seven
Plus he's makin money, keep the bassheads waitin
Rollin six-fo' wit the fresh ass Daytons
Livin in Compton, Cailfornia C-A
His uzi up yo' ass if he don't get paid
Nigga beggin for credit, he's knockin out teeth
Clockin much dollars on the 1st and 15th
Big wad of money nuttin less than a twenty
Yo you want a five-oh the dopeman's got plenty
To be a dopeman boy you must qualify
Don't get high off your own supply
From a ki' to a G it's all about money
Ten piece for a champ, bass pipe comes free
If people out there are not hip to the fact
If you see somebody gettin money for crack
he's the

Chorus: N.W.A.

Dopeman, dopeman! (Ay man, give me a hit)
Dopeman, dopeman! (Yo man, **** that shit!)
Dopeman, dopeman! (We just can't quit!)
Dopeman, dopeman! (Well suck this bitch!)

[Dr. Dre]
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Who the fu*k are you talkin to?
Do you know who the fu*k I am?
Man I can't believe this shit
This bitch is tryin to gank me
Yo I oughta slap you upside yo' head
with nine inches of limp dick

[Ice Cube]
You need a nigga with money so you get a dopeman
Juice that fool for as much as you can
She like his car, and he get wit her
Got a black eye cause the dopeman hit her
Let that slide and you pay it no mind
Find that he's slappin you all the time
But that's okay, cause he's so rich
Ain't you ain't nuttin but a dopeman's bitch
Do what he say and you keep your mouth shut
Poppin that trash might get you fu*ked up
Well sit and cry, if the dopeman strike you
He don't give a fu*k he got two just like you
There's another girl in the dopeman's life
Not quite a bitch but far from a wife
She's called strawberry and everybody know
strawberry strawberry is the neighborhood hoe
Do anything for a hit or two
Give the bitch a rock she fu*ked the whole damn crew
It might be your wife and it might make you sick
Come home and see her mouth on the dopeman's d!ck
Strawberry, just look and you'll see her
But don't fu*k around she'll give you gonnorhea
If people out there are not hip to the fact
the strawberry is a girl sellin pussy for crack
to the

Chorus: N.W.A.

Dopeman, dopeman! (Ay man, give me a hit)
Dopeman, dopeman! (Yo man, **** that shit!)
Dopeman, dopeman! (In yo' face)
Dopeman, dopeman! "Yo Dre!! Kick in the bass!!"

[Ice Cube]
If you smoke 'caine, you a stupid motherfu*ker
Known around the hood as the schoolyard clucker
Doin that crack with all the money you got
On your hands and knees, searchin for a piece of rock
Jonesin for a hit, and you're lookin for mo'
Done stole the Alpine out of Eazy's six-fo'
You need your ass whupped cause it's out of this earth
To get a ten-piece need a dollar fifty work
Knucklehead nigga, yeah you turned into a crook
but swear up and down boy that you ain't hooked
You beat your friend up, and you whupped his ass long
cause he hit the pipe til the rock was all gone
You robbin and stealin, buggin and illin
while the dopeman's dealin, what is healin yo' pain
Cocaine, this shit's insane
Yo E she's a berry, let's run a train
(Man, I wouldn't touch that bitch) me neither
Hoe go home and wash out your beaver
And niggaz out there messin up people's health
Yo, what the **** you gotta say for yourself?

[Eazy-E]
Well I'm the dopeman, yeah boy, wear a courderoy
Money up to here but unemployed
You keep smokin that rock and my pockets gettin bigger
(Yo, got that five-oh double up nigga!)
Yeah high rollin, big money I'm foldin
Bitch on my tip for the d!ck I'm holdin
Sprung strawberry jockin me so early
Hoe you wanna hit you gotta get your knees dirty
Now that's my life, that's how it's cut
"Hey dopeman!" Bitch, shut the fu*k up!
Gotta make a run, it's a big money deal
Gankers got the fake but you can get the real
from the

Chorus: N.W.A.

Dopeman, dopeman! (Yeah that's me)
Dopeman, dopeman! (Yo can I get a G?)
Dopeman, dopeman! (Clock as much as he can)
Fu*k this shit who am I? THE DOPEMAN!

[Eazy-E (as Mexican guy)]
Yo Mr. Dopeman, you think you're slick
You sold crack to my sister, and now she's sick
But if she happens to die, because of your drug
I'm puttin in your coolo, a thirty-eight slug

 

Ay ay Jaycee
Sup Aron?
Ain't that Snoop Dogg over there?
That that nigga with that blue coat on?
Yeah
Yeah oh yeah that's that nigga
Nigga roll up on the side of him man
Roll your window down
Man hand me my mother****in Glock man gimme another clip
Cuz I'm gonna smoke this fool
Yeah roll the windows down
Yeah, OK there you go
Ay man, you Snoop Dogg?
Snoop?
Huh?
Snoop Doggy Dogg?
Man he's Snoop Dogg
Man **** that nigga!!
[gun shots]
Nigga man!
Get that nigga man!
Man get up fool man, get up man, don't be tryin to run man
Get up on that fool man, I don't give a ****
What set you got now? **** you nigga!
Yeah nigga, whassup?
Nigga?
Yeah mother****er
Yeah nigga, one less nigga
Yeah nigga, youse a dead mother****er now

[Verse One:]

As I look up at the sky
My mind starts trippin, a tear drops my eye
My body temperature falls
I'm shakin and they breakin tryin to save the Dogg
Pumpin on my chest and I'm screamin
I stop breathin, damn I see deamons
Dear God, I wonder can ya save me
I can't die Boo-Boo's bout to have my baby
I think it's too late for prayin, hold up
A voice spoke to me and it slowly started sayin
"Bring your lifestyle to me I'll make it better"
How long will I live?
"Eternal life and forever"
And will I be, the G that I was?
"I'll make your life better than you can imagine or even dreamed of
So relax your soul, let me take control
Close your eyes my son"
My eyes are closed

[Chorus:]

Murder... murder was the case that they gave me
Murder... murder was the case that they gave me

[Verse Two:]

I'm fresh up out my coma
I got my momma and my daddy and my homies in my corner
It's gonna take a miracle they say
For me to walk again and talk again but anyway
I get, fronted some keys, to get, back on my feet
And everything that nigga said, came to reality
Livin like a baller loc
Havin money, and blowin hella chronic smoke
I bought my momma a Benz, and bought my Boo-Boo a Jag
And now I'm rollin in a nine-trizzay El Do-Rad
"Just remember who changed your mind
Cuz when you start set-trippin, that ass mine"
Indeed, agreed proceed to smoke weed
Never have a want, never have a need
They say I'm greedy but I still want mo'
Cuz my eyes wanna journey some more, really doe (check it out)

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord, my soul to keep
If I should die, before I wake
I pray the lord, my soul to take

No more indo, gin and juice
I'm on my way to Chino, rollin on the grey goose
Shackled from head to toe
25 with an izzl, with nowhere to gizzo, I know
them niggaz from the other side recognize my face
Cuz it's the O.G. D-O-double-G, L-B-C
Mad doggin niggaz cuz I don't care
Red jumpsuit with two braids in my hair
Niggaz stare as I enter the center
They send me to a leval 3 yard, that's where I stay
Late night I hear toothbrushes scrapin on the floor
Niggaz gettin they shanks, just in case the war, pops off
Cuz you can't tell what's next
My little homey Baby Boo took a pencil in his neck
And he probably won't make it, to see twenty-two
I put that on my momma, I'ma ride for you Baby Boo

 

Artist: Dr. Dre f/ Kurupt, Hittman & Ms. Roq
Album: The Chronic 2001
Song: Let's Get High


[all together]
All these niggaz and all these hoes in here
Somebody here gon' fu*k! (repeat 4X)

[Hittman]
Talkin that, walkin that, spittin at hoes
Smokin this, drinkin that, hittin at hoes
Fu*k this I'm hittin that I'm hittin em both
Have one ridin d!ck, one lickin my toes
When I'm lovin these hoes there ain't no love involved
No hugs, no kisses, bear rugs, bear britches
Rare bitches like to pose in them Black Tail pictures
Bitch jumped off my d!ck, "Is that Dre over there?"

[Dr. Dre]
Yeah -- I just took some Ecstasy
Ain't no tellin what the side effects could be
All these fine bitches equal sex to me
plus I got this bad bitch layin next to me
No doubt, sit back on the couch
Pants down, rubber on, set to turn that ass out
Laid the bitch out, then I put it in her mouth
Pulled out, nutted on a towel and passed out

[Kurupt]
Come on let's get high (hiiiiigh..)
let's get high (hiiiiigh..)
Come on let's get high (hiiiiigh..)
let's get high, all my ladies
let's get high (hiiiiigh..)
high (hiiiiigh..)
Let's get high (hiiiiigh..)
Come on let's get high

I make the four hop {*hydraulic sound*} pull up at the spot
Weed by the barrels in my G'd up apparel
Stompin in the party, Kurupt, Young Gotti
I'm fu*kin somethin in this bitch, hit em with some gangsta shit
Put somethin in your mouth bitch real tasty
I'm lookin real sauce in my gangsta-ass Casey's
Hit the party, ease up, Kurupt with an ounce an'
got all the hoes in this motherfu*ker bouncin {*hydraulics*}
Down to..

YO WHATTUP SCRAM JONES?
Mel-Man what's crackin?
Whassup wit all these ol' punk ass hoes in here?

[Ms. Roq]
Nigga WHUT??! I'm a hustlin bitch!
I like them get rich niggaz, them hit the switch niggaz
Niggaz bout the sex and which bitch to hit next
while I'm kickin my game and collectin them checks
Got all y'all niggaz vexed to fu*k this triple-X rated hoe
You say you ain't eat it - you ate it though
And uhh, Roq don't stop, can't be droppin no drawers
To the niggaz how you figure got you shittin in yours
Yeah, little dicks always runnin they mouth
While a bitch is better off to masturbate and be out
All you bitches up in here know what I'm talkin about
Get the loot, get the ice, fu*k the wife, no doubt
Tryin to live lavish, marry a big dick and stay carried
Holla back at them niggaz that hollered at me
Pop the Cris', whip the six and shit
and have all y'all niggaz limp when I twist my shit
Yeah! Bitch ass niggaz!