Lyrics:
quick, too quick
DJ Quik
Now can we get back on the tip of the real unadulterated funk?
'Cause Quik is gettin' funky just like a skunk
And the funk
quick, too quick
DJ Quik
Now can we get back on the tip of the real unadulterated funk?
'Cause Quik is gettin' funky just like a skunk
And the funk
know you're gonna get it
Then bust a rhyme, while you're clappin' your hands
It's Eazy E on the air [rockin' without a band]
[chorus]
[DJ: You're
riding with firearms cocked
Fire bomb box, set up by your mom's block
Go off on time, 'cause it's wired by alarm clock
I get his legs, you grab him by
plane
Back to one and the same
Gone outside of the clay
Soul is yearning for space
Back to nothing again
Sometimes I find myself forgotten
I'm divine by
even killed the time by helpin my man pass out fliers
Now all I want to do is get in where I fit in
Shake my ass with the baddest pidgeon with her wig
Back by popular demand
Dope pound gangsta feel
Want a real DJ, with a OGA
A bitch is a bitch, whether she poor or rich
She still gettin' a gang
get down)
Galang, (Feel, get down)
Stand up, (Get down, get down)
Wine pon yah man and ya hold 'em tough
So me ah chill in the VIP suite
See my DJ
Come to his home and I get em evicted
Slide through the back door wit a tre pound
Five niggas there lay all five down
I need the white, the green,
Kenny
When my pockets get fat as Cartman
I can write it and produce it
Turn silence into music
With nobody's help all by myself
I can do it at a level
Cashus Clay
The Yay
Area smoke greenery malacious all day
Eh, eh blaze.
Back in the days, when I was raised
Niggaz got sprayed wit A's and K's
(uh-huh)
Drinkin' every bottle 'til a nigga get nauseous (uh-huh)
Hundred bitches by a nigga, all of them gorgeous (uh-huh)
Hundred thousand on a nigga,
up on the gas stop holdin back (skrrt)
You the hardest in the city it's time you show em that (show em)
When the dj play this track they gonna tell him
on you
And you aint got enough chip of what I'm sellin you (Ch-ching)
Now get up out them bandanas, try denim (Hm)
Cus if you keep ‘em on you gon die in
she 38 hot wooo
She 38 hot, b 38 hot, get 38 hot, wooo ,38 hot
Fuck em all day fuck em all night, we don’t love these hos
Joski-Joski, DJ Pure
tell the DJ, J, J, J, J
Turn the motherfucker up, up, up, up, up
Yeah, mister bartender, tender, tender, tender
Pour me another cup, cup, cup, cup
Get
off of my dick?
Words in the way, I'm at lost by 'em
I give you a JFK on the front lawn of MLK in the crossfire (get down, nigga)
I have evolved into
Catch ‘em by surprise
Let’s catch ‘em by surprise!
Catch ‘em by surprise!
Let’s go! Bounce to the beat
People hands up!
Everybody in the place stand
still touch 'em
Niggaz ??, that's why we still hustle
For all my niggaz that can't be here
For every tear, send my a prayer, I swear
[Chorus:]
watchin' all these pretty things
Get down in that Georgia clay
And I'll find peace
At the bottom of a real tall cold drink
Chillin' with some Skynyrd
Cassius Clay on the smooth parquet
What's that song the DJ just played?
Stanky funk rolling down the street and it
Rattles your trunk, they think I'm drunk
get served if you don't buy it (bwai)
Same shit as McDonald's
Don't try to deny it (it's Clay-Doh, hear me roar)
The way my pen game got a strangle hold
a drive-by
Ride by, kill 'em like a drive-by
Drive by in a Wrath, nigga, big dog
Shot the bitch all in the face, then I told her wipe off
Then I had
your err (ear)
Go tell ya man, he take a step, there went a slug in his err (ear)
Have 'em askin (yo, how the hell he get a gun up in here?)
(That's
.jpg/300px-Arsonists_Get_All_the_Girls_(2011).jpg "Arsonists Get All the Girls")
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