Lyrics:
out if your rich, cause we about to pitch a bitch
Just stop by the store and grab a case of that, a six of this
Hey Betty get it ready, cause you daddys
money, let the hoes keep throwin'
I once met a tender, she did it for free
On the Foothill bust number forty-three
All the way on the back she was
on the inside you know he hate it
If all them built a house it would'nt have no windows
They don't wanna let the light in and it goes to show
Cuz there ain't no
to win it?
"Yes, I'm in Manhattan and I'll be there in a minute'
"And oh, by the way, I re-listened to your hit"
"Hey Rick", what's the scoop?
"Oh
And I'm tryna fuck these tits on this bimbo fore I end it
See I'm off balance, and I just bought a half a gallon
Of Jim Beam cause it seems to cultivate
Let me get with ya
Painting a picture
This not a cation
Mis your reaction
I get it cracking
Number one factions
What do you know
Run up that check
the tropics by the cool sand
This my shakin' down you niggas' pockets, I don't do friends
And I don't do trends
Fuck it though I'll ride with you then!
Aye that's a- that's a- that's a Betty Crocker
This is sermons over beats boy look
That's a Betty Crocker
Watch your step it could lead to death even
a lamp
Hanging from a distant boat
"It is my light" says Betty X
Betty X says "This light ain't yours"
And so much wind blew through her words
That I
It might sound sick, it might be petty
But ya never been sucked by Blowjob Betty!
Biatch!
Yeah hoe, y'all niggas don't know though, that's it
sirvive, no way you could stay alive
FUCK YOU PUNK BITCH, listen to this last blast(gunshot)
Wrap you in a sheet cause I can't supply yo bodybag
??? and jay
money, let the hoes keep throwin'
I once met a tender, she did it for free
On the Foothill bus number forty-three
All the way on the back she was
money, let the hoes keep throwin'
I once met a tender, she did it for free
On the Foothill bus number forty-three
All the way on the back she was
the failed and the often
Racist war on drugs, which
Started so long ago
That we've covered this story
Many ways tonight
We're going to look at it through
I lost the one's that I thought was my closest
But it's okay cause I don't need a shoulder
Or no one to hold me
Cause when I get lonely I turn
fun
Many fine times went by us
Now it's all so hazy
And a little bit crazy
Betty Jo, my heart's on fire
I don't need this crying
The next time
Don't let it end
Don't let it end
Don't ever let it end
Well, I got two tickets to the game
It'd be great if I could take you to it this Sunday
Bricks by the box
Make thousands, hundreds at a time
Don’t say noth’n
I won’t let it ride
Used to push Pablo..
Now it’s Betty White
Always get
her by the arm and I asked her name
She said it was Nina and her man's in Santa Rita
I took her to my home and homeboy, I geed her
Set her on the way
She don't know money so she callin' you rich
You ain't got game so you fall for the shit
Spend it all in this bitch 'til it's gone and she split
Now
SHE KNOW SHE A HO'!
I done told you - Somebody need to - help 'er
Betty Wright can't - help 'er
Heaven knows who's gonna - help 'er (Help 'er)
and like that,
Let 'em know that I'll make it for a big fat dope sack
What is this pen? so let's rush it.
If you want to handle it tonight we'll discuss
harder
Feel like Betty, bitch I'm cooking
Wrist work hard, my wrist game stupid
You wanna fight, nigga let's do it
I'm really about making this music
RIP
Movin like a sex machine
And as Sky & The Family Stone told
Funk are different strokes for different folks
That's it
Get down!
By the way we must to pay
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