|
Come on y'all, hey |
|
And this how we gon' do it |
|
How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish |
|
Ho's get down like you live you know the business |
|
How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish |
|
Ho's get down like you live... |
|
Nigga better check yourself before you think about fuckin' with these |
|
Muthafuckas always makin' the cheese |
|
187's for the triggers we squeeze |
|
Fool please, like a bitch |
|
Drop to your knees |
|
Be the bad-ass fool in the game |
|
All the ho's be scream my name |
|
Throwin' that ass, it's a damn shame |
|
Must the game |
|
So a nigga be bringin' the pain |
|
Ho's |
|
Still stand too tall and never fallin' |
|
Player haters perpetrate |
|
Standin' too close because we ballin' |
|
No competition |
|
But they wishin' they could dodge 5-0 |
|
Lay back in the cut |
|
Get sucked and fucked |
|
By a gang of hoodrat ho's |
|
Thought you knew |
|
The way we bring it to you it's on the real |
|
From the days of wayback packin' my strap |
|
On the west side of the hill |
|
Always chill with a gang of ho's |
|
Cluck cluck pesos everyday |
|
Be the bomb, show you love |
|
So all the skirts head my way |
|
P-a-i-d, no t-l-c |
|
Hell no, we never beg |
|
Take the dick down your throat |
|
Don't choke and open up them legs |
|
Nuff said |
|
Presidents dead cause you know |
|
That be's the business |
|
Get down like you live cause y'all check it, what what is this |
|
How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish |
|
Ho's get down like you live you know the business |
|
How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish |
|
Ho's get down like you live you know the business |
|
How you likin' me now, hey |
|
How you likin' me now, uh, geah one two |
|
How you likin' me now, geah, hey, geah |
|
I know the story's all the same |
|
But the names have changed so y'all can peeps my mission |
|
Nigga gone off the weed |
|
Tryin' to feed with speed and take my damn position |
|
Get my buck on, watch a nigga get the fuck on |
|
While he stabbin' |
|
I'm laughin' |
|
My nigga just got his duck on |
|
Lovin' it so it must be right can't be wrong |
|
With a pocket full of stones |
|
Rib bones and greenery, that's blown |
|
Home grown, watch your tone |
|
Homeboy you can't be from round here |
|
Westside 'bout it 'bout it, we blowin' chronic all year |
|
No fear |
|
For all the niggas and bitches in short skirts |
|
Don't fuck around, represent the town, nobody gon' get hurt |
|
More work, birds fly with ease, steady cluckin' cheese, you know? |
|
And y'all can't fuck around cause we dodge from 5-0 |
|
If you knew |
|
Then i guess its your time to straight go |
|
While you layin' in the ground, i creep around and fuck your ho' |
|
I thought you knew |
|
About this time |
|
We gotta get money |
|
I gotta get mine |
|
Chorus... |
|
Hey |
|
Come on y'all |
|
Half ounce in the house one time |
|
Come on y'all, hey |
|
X-fact's in the house two times |
|
Come on y'all, hey |
|
How you likin' us now, geah |