Lyrics:
gotta turn these Boys II Men
Naughty By Nature, cause by nature I'm naughty
Fool, you better ask somebody
Yeah
Yo-Yo, 199-Trey
Givin' a knock-out
though im paid, whut
Dropped out in the sixth grade, whut
Had syphaliss three times, whut
Committed mad felony crimes, whut
Been a week I ain't
Turn yo speakers up
Yessir
Get it started yo
How I like bro
It's party time
You know it's a party
Gunther get it started
Pull up with my
[king just]
Tiger uppercut, yo, what the fuck?
A lotta you rappers, adapt me, so you better duck down
Check out the sound that pound
Rugged raw rap
smash your Benz windows
Detecting fake niggas signals
Yo live niggas get it too
Scarin rappers like the fed time
Gotti was acquitted to
Bloodshot red
the scene with a
Clip full of hollows, Put a hole in his tee
He got soul 'til his face by
The soles of my feet
Don't get stepped on (Don't get stepped on)
I
It's old love, I could see the eyes up above
watchin, waitin for me to slip
lose grip, opposition got me on their list
I get freshed by Jase
he threw
Your little plan was a flop
Tryin' to get em on by sellin' out the Kid Rock
A part of me was with you but yo he died,
And I'm glad you stepped off
on new
And you can ask swift gotti
Don't shit get by me
Ask tommy showtime if I did my time
And you can ask L Dog if I ever felt y'all
And ask rock jock if
a housewife
When you know everybody know you a body
Got me a pistol, I got me a shotty
I be posted up in the yo like Gotti
How you gon' send a nigga like me
ricotta, we need it for the manicotti
Keep singing like a fucking bird, you gon' end up like Gotti
Time to pay the Piper like Rowdy, sativa scented so loudy
my murder I aint shoot nobody
They wanna judge me by raps they like you John Gotti
Talking bout this aint political
If it's not then why you feel
and jumping
I die by this shit
I ain't fearing no man
Put a stick in the air
It just got up to somethin
To these bitches I'm groovy
I treat yo hoe like
do cuz God got me
Trippin' off who!?, nobody
Know "Men Lie, Women Lie"
That's big facts, word to Yo Gotti
Tryna leave behind a legacy and get Ricch
It's murda (Yo it's murda)...niggaz it's murda(Niggaz it's murda)
It's murda (Yo it's murda)...niggaz it's murda(Niggaz it's murda)
[Chorus]
look back that's way too dear
I went straight into production wearing a full body suit like Breaking Bad
Trimming for 2 whole weeks and I ate nothing
[ intro: fat joe ]
Yeah yeah
Terror squad what-what
Cuban link what-what
'99, baby
[ verse 1: cuban link ]
Yo ladi-dadi, mami, I love to party
Plus
Same story, same target, different time
Cyclical reaction from the prisoners of the blind
Trying to fight time, it's a battle of the mind
Waiting
the three time losers
Pour out some beer, bust out the ruger
Ladies and gentleman
Bullets will leave you tremblin'
Shooken up
I got my cuban mommy cooking up
like
"Gotti" (Yo)
"I'm throwing a party, come and parlay
Finna shoot you the addy; ain't too far from where you stay
Bad bitches and alcohol, what more I
the fuck
Is that over there? That don't look
Like Gotti car? That is that nigga shit
These niggas tryna ride on us
Nigga fuck that hey everybody
Take your
Yo Gotti, I am
Can't enough of the price
Imma tax you, Uncle Sam
She can't get enough of that camera
Since I put her on the red carpet
Can't get enough
[wyclef talking:]
Yo to my people doing time, xzibit, juvenile, y'all need to
Nature, ja rule, reptile come on
Bring the heat.
[xzibit]
Look,
yes sir, she was trill
Plus she had a pocket full of colorful pills
Puttin' heat through yo whole crew flannel
Cookin' them chickens put me on tha Food
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