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featuring Grand Puba |
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Intro- |
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What we gonna do right here is...... |
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Yeah, yeah, come on, come on |
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Yeah, yeah, come on, come on, come on |
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Check it out, check it out |
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Yo, yo, yo Who the fuck is that nigga rhymin' on the mic? |
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WHO IS THIS MOTHERFUCKER? |
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Psycho Les- |
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It's the wicked, nigger with the super dick |
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Fuckin' ho's like I'm supposed to be in a flick, UH! |
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One time, I tap yo mind, I got you hummin' |
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Now you want to press rewind |
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I pour rhyme in your ear to develop suds |
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Slice the fuckin' Philly and break up the buds |
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Who's Buddha? I don't know, is it a special |
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Stick a fork in your neck and pop a blood vessel |
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The hispanic shaft packs a gat, too |
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Permanent scar your ass like a tattoo |
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Slam dunk the funk in your trunk, punk! |
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Da Doom Doom, Do Doom |
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Fashion- |
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Yeah, cool makin' moves nigger so smooth |
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Scarin' ya, hangs up in the 'Skills |
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But Queens is like the area |
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I stare at ya, tear at ya, break that back |
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Now crack the fuckin' sack and roll that shit black! |
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Act like you want a nigger and watch me hit him |
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Then I have my shottie' let my brother Divine get him |
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We got him, ho's comin' through in the clutch |
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She said I only suck that dick cause I love you so much |
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Said I only lick them balls cause you so game tight |
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And you keep my ass climbing the fuckin' walls at night |
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So hit me, hit me one time, let me flex it |
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Crew's still makin' moves but now I've gots to exit |
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chorus 4x |
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Fashion- |
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Hold up, you know I gots to get my wreck off |
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Fuckin' rugged like a dog about to bite your neck off |
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Police still puttin' fear in the hearts of mad crews |
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Leavin' people lyin' dead in the street with no clues |
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Soul like a mother got the funk on lock |
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You can hear my sounds echo through the urban block |
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Got stacks of stocks, and fat beats to knock |
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Got you open now you're hopin' that the junkyard rocks |
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Grand Puba: |
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Okay here goes the blow, the bag, the mint |
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Grand time to represent flava so strong |
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Fills the room like Buddha stick, uhuh, don't like choke |
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Gotta get paid so we're tryin' to go for broke |
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Beatnuts hit the rhythm and I join right with 'em |
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Niggas can't see this flow so it's time to down sit 'em |
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I kick the flow for the niggas with the bald heads |
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Dreads, and 'fros, honey's, but no ho's |
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Oops! I didn't mean to call you ho, bitch |
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But when you try to clock the pocket that's that bullshit! |
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So let's get down with one of New York's finest |
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Seed to the brain like Primatine to clear the sinus |
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Grand Puba, Stud Doogie with the mad style |
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Beatnuts comin' with the rugged(Hey You, watch out now!) |
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It's on motherfucker, can't you see that? |
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No shame in the game, so Doogie where the weed at? |
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(Chorus 5x) |
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Right now you're as high as a junkie with a hundred-dollar habit... |
