|
Whoo! uhh, ah ah, ayahhh, ahh ahh ahh |
|
And you don't stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bond |
|
Now introducin the sound from the ghetto |
|
E double and too $hort, what the ***** you thought? |
|
I come with the ruckus, it's my thing when i swing |
|
I'm born to mack, always strapped, with the black gat |
|
Who out there i swear boy wanna get touched |
|
Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so duck |
|
I talk the talk, walk the walk, now ***** |
|
Five hundred s drivin with hand on trigger |
|
Crazy lestat, check my track record |
|
Everything i touch is gold since eighteen years old |
|
So what that mean? i rolled the blunt |
|
And puff the indo smoke in it, i trip in a minute |
|
Crazy holy doctor holdin me cuz i be rockin b |
|
Sewin up like monopoly, nobody's stoppin me |
|
Dig it, funkdafied like brat, how's that? |
|
I stick and move on tracks while i smoke a twenty sack |
|
Who said the e can't rock? that's bull*****t |
|
Suck my ***** and get a big fat lick of my ***** |
|
You wanna brawl? punk i thought not |
|
You might get beat down and stomped like sasquatch |
|
Your girl, like keith sweat, i wanna ***** her |
|
Psych, i already stuck her |
|
Huh, i got rhymes to make your whole head swell up |
|
Here's an icepack - homeboy shut the hell up |
|
I rock the mic with too $hort, y'all *****z know what's happenin |
|
Everything he touch goes platinum |
|
Eyeeaaaah! |
|
[too $hort] |
|
I made a half a million in a week |
|
And every ***** on the street got a tape playin me |
|
You can't believe it? erick sermon, rollin with $hort |
|
Rolled from california all the way to new york |
|
In big benzes, g hooked it up |
|
Now we trying to squash all that east/west stuff |
|
We spent years in the studio makin funky tracks |
|
Signed a bunch of *****z with some tight ass raps |
|
It's like father dom, it's like keith murray |
|
Makin millionaires but it ain't no hurry |
|
Cause we all in it for the long run |
|
I won't leave the studio until a song's done |
|
And ain't nuthin really hard about gettin my cash |
|
A big fat house with a million stashed |
|
You other *****z got this rap game distorted |
|
Givin dat's to the label, straight gettin shorted |
|
Claim you gettin paid, but i can't tell |
|
You keep rappin in my ear and got me mad as hell |
|
You talk a good game but i don't believe in you |
|
You smoked a lotta blunts but i got mo' ***** than you |
|
I guess i see you on the charts in the meanwhile |
|
Another face in the crowd bustin freestyles |
|
Wi*****n you could be in the light |
|
Promoters pay me ten g's just to breathe on the mic |
|
*****! $hort dawg puttin it down with the e double |
|
[erick onasis] |
|
Shhhhh! you remind me of my fat gold chain |
|
Some of y'all are just small change |
|
Be a boss with true true game |
|
Yeah yeah |
|
Dig this y'all, my music is dangerous |
|
Atomic dog, coming through the smog with $hort dawg |
|
Ahhh! quick with the trig jack be nimble |
|
I shoot like g mob goes liftin through my window |
|
Chik chik pow! how you like me now? |
|
The man in the mirror it don't get no clearer |
|
$hort dawg, the e double, and breed we roll thick |
|
Like girls in c.a.u. with the good power-u |
|
Owww! money is the key to fame |
|
So i can live it up with the girls on soul train |
|
The impact, major league dough like dave justice |
|
Yo breed, $hort dawg, show em how we bust this |
|
[too $hort] |
|
Like some true pioneers, don't forget it some ***** |