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Verse 1 *(Nik Nack)* |
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Nik Nack is in the house for the four, |
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my niggaz locked up, left a kilo.... it's good as sold, |
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stole, |
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gumbo pot creamery, |
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rise to the top, |
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my limo even slide through on the late night for that high, |
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I wanna zoom-zoom, bumpin Luni-Tunes, |
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candy paint K-5 |
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bitches I stay high, |
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playa hate, |
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callin me a balla, shot calla, |
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cuz I'm slangin all the major weight, |
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blam!! |
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close the door to my residence, |
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po-po start searchin low, but found no evidence, |
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they tryin to wash me an our county like Downy, |
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quick to pick a nigga Nack up like Downty, |
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don't clown me, |
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bitch!! |
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dike hoes wanna lick my clit, |
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but end up gettin stuck in the gut, wit a dick, |
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down fo my shit, |
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tricks wanna get em up wit me, |
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because they heard their baby-daddy fucked wit me, |
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but I'm out on you hoes, |
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wit the 10 g belt, |
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the only thing I'm concentratin on is checkin my mail, |
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what the hell??!! what the fuck??!! |
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do you mean, |
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your boyfriend is a dope fiend, an he smoked up all my ice cream, |
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oops upside yo head fo gettin licked like a lolli-pop, |
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let yo nigga cut, where's my shit, now you get lolli-hopped, |
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by everybody on the turf, |
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oh yeah about that skrilla.... hell yeah that welfare check is mines on |
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the first. |
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*(chorus)* x2 |
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It's so much drama in the streets, |
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an I can't tell you why the funk be deep! |
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Do you really know where ya going to, |
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an do you like the things that life is showin you?? |
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Verse 2 *(Knumskull)* |
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Fuck around an trust yo underfolks, |
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like dope fiends, you leave yo cream wit, |
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post, you come back an yo whole bundle gone, |
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or this, niggaz add dirt to the list, |
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getaway clean, |
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but one wanna keep everything, |
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he gots to cook it, cuz we need the good shit to post, |
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tryin to bake a whole thing, this fool claim that the pot broke, |
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but here goes 5 g's an dubbs, |
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you can probably catch mo cuz I chop slugs, |
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blood bubbles, so I charge it to the game wit no shame, |
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even though we got away wit a whole thang of cocaine, |
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I got fucked in the deal, sumpthin cool, |
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(Why meee!!) |
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cuz that 5 g's he gave me was boo-boo, |
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too much drama in the streets of the Oak, |
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niggaz will tell you what they want you to hear, |
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not what you should know, |
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instead of sellin mo cream, |
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niggaz is sellin mo dreams, |
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lyin juss to kick it sellin weight wit no fiends, |
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now this is sumpthin that I don't understand, |
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why the FUCK would that nigga Master P call himself the Ice Cream Man, |
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BITCH!! Don't you hear the muzik?? |
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That's jankie as fuck, |
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he musta been off the fluid, |
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niggaz steadily tryin to take shit from the next man, |
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don't playa hate, juss give a pound an let the best stand, |
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it's too much skrilla in the Land, |
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fo niggaz to be hatin, |
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Captian Savin, |
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I juss don't understand. |
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Verse 3 *(Yukmouth)* |
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Cuz when I was a youngsta, money was so damn hard to find. |
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But dealt wit my young comrads an we was deadly on the grind. |
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When I wanted to bubble, fools start trippin talkin shit. |
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They never woulda thought I'd be, the mutha fuckin wit all of the grip. |
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Check this out here you jive ass turkeys man. Hoe's slobberin-obberin in |
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the O. There's only one Mobb man, don't hop on the back of the Ice Cream |
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truck an get yo ass booted off. |
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I can't stand punks on a man hunt, |
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that destroy, |
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lay low, cuz my four-four, |
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will make yo ass glow, like Bruce Lee woo, |
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(sho nuff) |
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since they bigga, |
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many figga that I can't throw, |
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but they don't know about this bole-legged skinny nigga, |
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mad because I'm foldin grip, |
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plus rollin thick, |
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still up on that late night loadin clips, |
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holdin shit, |
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to myself, |
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shotgun bullets be bad fo them health, |
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so save that gang-bang shit on somebody else, |
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where I peep thugs, |
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have drugs to sell you, |
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don't fuck wit the L-U-N-I-Z that's what they tell you, |
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peep the murder we wrote, |
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we roll wit C-Note an Noo-Trybe to fools slide, |
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at my show because I make the whole fuckin O hooride |
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slide to get the remedy, |
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M.D., |
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twamp, twamp, |
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make you wanna pump, pump on the enemy, |
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been havin suicidal tendecies the whole day, |
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alazae will have a nigga on lock down like O.J., |
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(slang-a-gang-of-caine) |
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like the Cubans, |
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they hate when I'm crusin, |
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don't fuck around an get yo life ruined fool, |
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so take yo last look, |
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you get yo ass whooped, |
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Rolex took, |
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cuz broke niggaz make the best crooks, |
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you best look over your shoulder, highrolla, |
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wit that cola, cuz my soldiers come wit mo folks then yours does, |
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no bluers or blunders, |
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we fed to head wit mo bread than Wonder, |
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an strapped wit a Mac-11 an go under. |
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*(chorus)* 4X |
