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When a mother****er walk up in the club, I mean I mean |
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And a nigga be 70 deep |
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But if a nigga let his mother****in scrotum hang over his shoulder |
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And come up and do a WALK-BY on your bitch-ass |
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It's nay-thun |
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Don't give a **** about how much money you got nigga |
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It's about how you outsmart the next nigga |
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[Chorus: Lil Jon] |
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Bitch, nigga, what the ****'s up! |
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(Anybody can get it!) |
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Hoe, niggaz, go pull your skirts up |
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Don't think that you won't get touched, BITCH! |
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I'm in your grill now, nigga what you gon' do? |
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I'm in your grill now, bitch what you gon' do? |
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I'm in your grill now, nigga what you gon' do? |
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Don't think that you won't get touched, BITCH! |
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[Bone Crusher] |
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Hoes, hoes, money, roll |
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Mr. Whup-Ass done stepped in the do' |
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(BONE CRUSHER!) Bring the pain, to your skull |
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Y'all niggaz don't want a fight, all y'all want is a hug |
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Your bark is worse than your bite, with your mean mug |
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Let's take it to the grass and we'll see what's up |
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Y'all knows about me, Mr. Streetsweep |
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Twinkie soft niggaz get dealt with swift-ily |
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I'm amazin; I always bring the heat |
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Pull the cake up through the ground if he ****in with me |
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Me and E-Fonzarelli, new Starsky & Hutch |
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Mother****er don't act like you can't get touched |
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Grindin niggaz bows up and we turn 'em to dust |
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As the crowd go ah-OOOOH-AHH cause you know you ****ed up |
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They don't wanna see me, nicknamed the realest |
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Don't believe me, ask them Adamsvillers |
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This A-T-L nigga! |
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[Chorus] |
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[E-40] |
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I sit at the bar and tear up hundred dollar bills |
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My car, my Hummer got 26 inch rims |
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I'm a star on my side of the earth, I bleed the block |
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Promethazine, codeine, water and hubba rock |
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Million dollar dreams and fiends and things of that nature |
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Triple beams and things and T-Mobile paint ya |
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Told myself - I need to stop pushin hop |
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I need to stop pushin hop so I can buy a WingStop |
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My young hyenas be bustin guns, mashin and pistol packin |
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Smokin so much 'dro that our lungs feel like they collapsin |
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Trick I see you and yo' partners laughin |
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Jaw-jackin and scammin and plottin |
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Old soft-ass, medicated, cotton-ass nigga |
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You're out of line I told you once befo' it's dubya dot |
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Bust a Head dot com, on mine, hit the flo'! |
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And don't come back no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo' |
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Mother****er it's E-4-oh from the Valle-jo |
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Still rappin like I'm po' - BEOTCH! |
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[Chorus] |
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[David Banner] |
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I'ma kill a mother****er's ass if I have to |
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But is it worth it is the question that I ask you |
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To blast your punk-ass |
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And is you bleedin, only to give Satan a damn good |
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reason to play with me, look bitch I'm sayin |
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You don't listen 'less that tec-9 sprayin yo' ass |
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Glass breakin in your home boy, thinkin you fast |
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I never mash out, 'til the iron smack up yo' body |
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Then you pass out, I pray to God for peace |
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I done best to get my black ass out of these streets |
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But y'all don't listen 'less I'm cussin and bustin the shit |
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You keep beggin, and I'ma give it to ya you bitch! |
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In your face, your back, your chest, neck and lungs |
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You want war, you will get it for Mr. Crawfordson |
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They call me really really doe, ain't no hoe in my blood |
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A couple slugs bitch you thugs'll give me a hug |
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Real gangster niggaz raise up |
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Y'all sticky ooh-wee niggaz blaze up |
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or get yo' ass sprayed up, bitch nigga! |
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[E-40] |
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And there you have it! (And there you have it) |
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Anybody can get it (anybody) |
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Don't act like you can't get touched, peeyimp! |
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Yeah, my dude Bone Crusher (that's right) |
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Lil Jon and the Eastside Boyz (yeahh!) David Banner |
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And E-40 Belafonte pimpskillet |
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Trust that, BOTCH! BEOTCH!! |
