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To my motherfuckin' man, fifty grand, the alcholic man |
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Inject a tall can to his blood stream, if he can |
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Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker |
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Emcee prover, the chocolate tah smoker (huh?) |
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I like to mack in Maximas and Acuras |
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Your girl's butt cheeks, I'm smackin' (huh?) |
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The raw rapper, spot smacker |
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Wit the lil hooker on my lap-ah, you know your favorite macker |
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A shy nigga, but I ain't ya fuckin' comforter |
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And If I ever fall in love, I better fuck wit her |
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Ask the hooker, If I didn't juk her |
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She try to front, then I put the Chucky Booker on her |
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(Why you wanna... play games on me?) |
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Bitch, you crazy? Commitments, I'm Swayze |
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No time for the ill shit |
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Mess with the niggaz on that real blood spill shit |
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My rappin' tactics, are drastic |
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Stretch these motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic |
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So if you wanna see my Pedigree, |
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You better be filled with energy |
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Niggaz never gettin' me |
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Big cities and bright lights |
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Short days and long nights |
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No stress and no strife |
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I'm high off living the life |
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It's clear to see that I'm the motherfuckin' man, |
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I done learned from the best of em; |
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Took the first slot, niggaz still second guessin' em |
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Hoes, I'm undressin' em', foes, I'm not stressin' em' |
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Outlastin' a bunch of 'em, outflaw'd the rest of em' |
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Cuz everyday, I stay preachin' on the pulpit |
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So tell them haters they could miss me with that bull-shit |
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But I won't miss, I'm Luda, the heat holder |
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I'm rich, bitch! I've done more shows than Oprah |
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And I'm a soldier, ready for whatever |
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Roll with a bunch of niggaz that don't know no better |
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King like Coretta, countin' mo' cheddar |
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Just hired two dykes to be my ho getters |
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When it comes to these women, dog, ain't no one fuckin' wit me |
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They runnin' back, you think I had TJ Duckett wit me |
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That's cause I throw it like Vick, from the yard line |
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Menage a trois, it's safe to say I'm havin' hard times |
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To my nigga Chopper dot, with the whoopty-whop on the block |
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Got the heaters cocked, cause I know the suckers on the block |
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Hennesey and Belve-D, brings a lot of jealousy |
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Nigga stop snitchin', nephew, why you tellin' me? |
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They say the game ain't what it use to be no more |
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He used to be a G, but now he just a ho |
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Runnin' 'round poitin' fingers, tellin' names (snitch) |
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You fuckin' up the rules to this dirty game, it's a diry shame |
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I ain't flippin' out, that's probably why I'm dippin' out |
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Ya'll fools trippin' out, that why I'm on a different route |
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Now, makin' money, havin' clout, that's what it's all about |
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Twenty seven cars and a tweleve bedroom house |
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Now they call me Snoopy Trump |
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I keep my heater close, cause I love to bust |
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Now I susstain on a nigga, I bang on a nigga |
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Kick rocks and watch how I do my thang, young nigga; I'm livin' the life! |
