Song | Ask About Me |
Artist | Ice Cube |
Album | War & Peace Vol. 1 (The War Disc) |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
I check it in on the west coast (ask about me) | |
I check it in in the dirty south (a-yeay) | |
I check it in in the mid-west (hustle, man) | |
I check it in on the east coast (the hustle gang) | |
(look at me) | |
(don matta') | |
(poppa don) | |
[ice cube] | |
Check my blood pressure, | |
They think they fresher than the don | |
Prescription pills to keep me calm, | |
Nigga, i'm da bomb! | |
In the black testerosa, | |
Sippin' on mimosa, | |
A bleedin' ?nosa? | |
I'm in the west, we ain't got the ?nego? | |
Give me sicko kilos from puerto rico | |
When i okay it, | |
So much cheese, you got to weigh it | |
Never thought these niggaz was the feds | |
'freeze' was the sound | |
I started lettin' off rounds, | |
Lay the whole fuckin' room down | |
I don't wanna see your honor, | |
Ratha eat pirhana from benny hana, | |
Smokin' marijuana in my sauna, | |
I done hade it with these attics and faggots, | |
They them rattic causin' static, | |
Bring me my a-u-t-o-matic, | |
Oh niggaz wanna se how we ride | |
Bitch, you know the muthafuckin' side, | |
World muthafuckin' wide. | |
[chorus] | |
Make yo' hustle official, | |
And them niggaz that's wit' you, | |
Gotta push tha issue, | |
On the fools that dis you, | |
Whether pump or pistol, | |
When it's up in yo' gristle, | |
Hand yo' mama a tissue, | |
If i decide to kiss you. | |
*hook* (replace 'a-yeay' with 'ask about me') | |
Can you dig her? | |
It's the bigger, seven-figure, super nigga | |
Wit' the triggas at yo' dome, | |
We like to roam, | |
Through yo' muthafuckin' home like a comb | |
And find the money that's gone | |
And we'll take you, shake you, | |
Break you, take two, | |
Play you on wit' the chrome, | |
Nigga shoot! | |
Execute, they try to electrocute | |
I got too much loot | |
Ya say i'm on yo' hit list, | |
You niggaz miss, | |
Tryin' to turn my muthafuckin' cheese into swiss | |
Rappers make bucks and i can hear it, | |
Hard to fear it, | |
'cuz i know you grew up on my lyrics | |
It's the boss player, | |
Never lost hair over assholes, | |
Blast holes in you muthafuckin' tadpoles | |
Like a bullfrog, | |
Nigga i'm a bullhog, | |
Guppies get worked like puppies by the bulldog | |
Where millions never gave a fuck about sicilians, | |
Or killas on t.v. can see, | |
We got the real ones | |
So check yo' muthafuckin cd-rom | |
And your world wide web, dot com, | |
It's the don mega! | |
*chorus* | |
*hook* | |
[mr. short khop, (ice cube)] | |
What cha call it? (the hustle gang) x3 | |
What cha call it? (hustle, man) | |
[ice cube] | |
Ask about me x2 |
I check it in on the west coast ask about me | |
I check it in in the dirty south ayeay | |
I check it in in the midwest hustle, man | |
I check it in on the east coast the hustle gang | |
look at me | |
don matta' | |
poppa don | |
ice cube | |
Check my blood pressure, | |
They think they fresher than the don | |
Prescription pills to keep me calm, | |
Nigga, i' m da bomb! | |
In the black testerosa, | |
Sippin' on mimosa, | |
A bleedin' ? nosa? | |
I' m in the west, we ain' t got the ? nego? | |
Give me sicko kilos from puerto rico | |
When i okay it, | |
So much cheese, you got to weigh it | |
Never thought these niggaz was the feds | |
' freeze' was the sound | |
I started lettin' off rounds, | |
Lay the whole fuckin' room down | |
I don' t wanna see your honor, | |
Ratha eat pirhana from benny hana, | |
Smokin' marijuana in my sauna, | |
I done hade it with these attics and faggots, | |
They them rattic causin' static, | |
Bring me my automatic, | |
Oh niggaz wanna se how we ride | |
Bitch, you know the muthafuckin' side, | |
World muthafuckin' wide. | |
chorus | |
Make yo' hustle official, | |
And them niggaz that' s wit' you, | |
Gotta push tha issue, | |
On the fools that dis you, | |
Whether pump or pistol, | |
When it' s up in yo' gristle, | |
Hand yo' mama a tissue, | |
If i decide to kiss you. | |
hook replace ' ayeay' with ' ask about me' | |
Can you dig her? | |
It' s the bigger, sevenfigure, super nigga | |
Wit' the triggas at yo' dome, | |
We like to roam, | |
Through yo' muthafuckin' home like a comb | |
And find the money that' s gone | |
And we' ll take you, shake you, | |
Break you, take two, | |
Play you on wit' the chrome, | |
Nigga shoot! | |
Execute, they try to electrocute | |
I got too much loot | |
Ya say i' m on yo' hit list, | |
You niggaz miss, | |
Tryin' to turn my muthafuckin' cheese into swiss | |
Rappers make bucks and i can hear it, | |
Hard to fear it, | |
' cuz i know you grew up on my lyrics | |
It' s the boss player, | |
Never lost hair over assholes, | |
Blast holes in you muthafuckin' tadpoles | |
Like a bullfrog, | |
Nigga i' m a bullhog, | |
Guppies get worked like puppies by the bulldog | |
Where millions never gave a fuck about sicilians, | |
Or killas on t. v. can see, | |
We got the real ones | |
So check yo' muthafuckin cdrom | |
And your world wide web, dot com, | |
It' s the don mega! | |
chorus | |
hook | |
mr. short khop, ice cube | |
What cha call it? the hustle gang x3 | |
What cha call it? hustle, man | |
ice cube | |
Ask about me x2 |
I check it in on the west coast ask about me | |
I check it in in the dirty south ayeay | |
I check it in in the midwest hustle, man | |
I check it in on the east coast the hustle gang | |
look at me | |
don matta' | |
poppa don | |
ice cube | |
Check my blood pressure, | |
They think they fresher than the don | |
Prescription pills to keep me calm, | |
Nigga, i' m da bomb! | |
In the black testerosa, | |
Sippin' on mimosa, | |
A bleedin' ? nosa? | |
I' m in the west, we ain' t got the ? nego? | |
Give me sicko kilos from puerto rico | |
When i okay it, | |
So much cheese, you got to weigh it | |
Never thought these niggaz was the feds | |
' freeze' was the sound | |
I started lettin' off rounds, | |
Lay the whole fuckin' room down | |
I don' t wanna see your honor, | |
Ratha eat pirhana from benny hana, | |
Smokin' marijuana in my sauna, | |
I done hade it with these attics and faggots, | |
They them rattic causin' static, | |
Bring me my automatic, | |
Oh niggaz wanna se how we ride | |
Bitch, you know the muthafuckin' side, | |
World muthafuckin' wide. | |
chorus | |
Make yo' hustle official, | |
And them niggaz that' s wit' you, | |
Gotta push tha issue, | |
On the fools that dis you, | |
Whether pump or pistol, | |
When it' s up in yo' gristle, | |
Hand yo' mama a tissue, | |
If i decide to kiss you. | |
hook replace ' ayeay' with ' ask about me' | |
Can you dig her? | |
It' s the bigger, sevenfigure, super nigga | |
Wit' the triggas at yo' dome, | |
We like to roam, | |
Through yo' muthafuckin' home like a comb | |
And find the money that' s gone | |
And we' ll take you, shake you, | |
Break you, take two, | |
Play you on wit' the chrome, | |
Nigga shoot! | |
Execute, they try to electrocute | |
I got too much loot | |
Ya say i' m on yo' hit list, | |
You niggaz miss, | |
Tryin' to turn my muthafuckin' cheese into swiss | |
Rappers make bucks and i can hear it, | |
Hard to fear it, | |
' cuz i know you grew up on my lyrics | |
It' s the boss player, | |
Never lost hair over assholes, | |
Blast holes in you muthafuckin' tadpoles | |
Like a bullfrog, | |
Nigga i' m a bullhog, | |
Guppies get worked like puppies by the bulldog | |
Where millions never gave a fuck about sicilians, | |
Or killas on t. v. can see, | |
We got the real ones | |
So check yo' muthafuckin cdrom | |
And your world wide web, dot com, | |
It' s the don mega! | |
chorus | |
hook | |
mr. short khop, ice cube | |
What cha call it? the hustle gang x3 | |
What cha call it? hustle, man | |
ice cube | |
Ask about me x2 |