Lyrics:
started way back in Ninety-three
Wit Doc Giggz, Phizz Ed, and Lord Hakim
To all my fly ladies that's in the place
Let me ya shake it up and shaka shake
times to count
Before I tear up The Shelter, give my dawgs a pound
Now I'm 'bout to treat all of you rappers noggins how
Dre does every time he goes
Your money like old men, can't get it up
I'm spittin up, sick of stuff, middle fingers up
Luck, never give why'all respect
Like no hot card check
where to go
He gives me the addy
I get up in my whip
I'm going eighty-five when it says thirty-six yeah
Pedal to the medal and yeah I'm fucking mad
I
and blow trial
You catch cal when you browse through my X-files
Who be next now?
Man's down, hands down
Hold ground by yo side when it go down
I dedicate
claims she wants to make it up to the D.O.C.
And ya know I'm still out to get the pussy
Tried to be nice cause I didn't want to dis her
Passed Mickey D's
Cocaine,
Forget it by the quarter,
Bring it by the pound, straight through the border.
Cocaine,
Bring it 'cross the water,
When it touch down,
face and you cut off your thumb
Mike will give you something to make it go numb
I'm not just the draw connection
I want to open up the doors
like a stuck pig and it's getting on the floor
They lay him on the billiards and call for the doc by name
It's a shame they had to stop what was
Who are you? You don't know?
Don't tell me 'Negro' that's nothing
What were you before the white
Man named you a 'Negro'? What was your name?
It
out it's a stick-up, hit the floor
You fish cake niggas, stay lipping off
Did your Mama name you, or Mrs. Paul's
Battling session, what's up with it
I
we got jerked but still invented them
Wicked litle kick it joints that got us ghetto wheight
And also kept the jazz alive by pulling off the plates
mama name you, or Mrs. Paul's
Battle in session, what's up with it?
I talk like I walk with a f***ed up pivot
N****s scream out: "It's just us
missing
That click clack pow did it
Like Colin Powell did it
And I’m so west coast, ok corral with it
My new foreign car can't pronounce that shit
You fuck
forward
Willing to play the back, y’all could lead us at any moment
Word to my girls, it’s yall world, how will you shape it
When they square up, best step
on kick it
A black five wit rims, what you can spot me in
Wanna die I snatch you like Doc Kevokian
So turn the beat up
While NARCs got me on sweep up
babysitter
And her lesbian friend, and that nigga wit her
I don't give a fuck, I smack blood out a midget
My tactics make evil D say come on kick it
Man this mad scientist and myself are best buds
True, got the juice, I'm the man, give a boost
To myself, never lose, bipolar, call it two
Me and you,
get it cut up
I speak on behalf of them broads you call stuck up
Act like a man and get cocked, smacked or fucked up
Pull the truck up, Luck you know
of the calm, the witty
Yo shut the fuck up!
Luck said shut the fuck up!
Bitches in the back, like crack get it cut up
I speak on behalf of them broads you
Cocaine,
Forget it by the quarter,
Bring it by the pound, straight through the border.
Cocaine,
Bring it 'cross the water,
When it touch down,
give me, doc
What you got, to give me & my body some peace
I can't rely on me, I'm just a melting pot
Of all the wrong tendencies
Well there ain't no
walk up in the room, no question
Doc Martens on the feet
Class is in session
His ego so big that he can barely carry it
Have me a laugh boy that shit is
the yappin, be true to it, do it
Steady scream about your East and your West side
But you ain't in it when it comes to the homicide
Niggaz better get up off
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