Lyrics:
might be the chotas
A young Baby Beesh, he don't fuck with police
And all' beat the dog shit out your nephew and niece
If they ever get the snitching,
Ah already fo sho fo sho
That boy frankie j hmmm
Happy p you sick for this dog
Baby bash
Girl I've got to know
Girl I've got to know
Fo sho
where dem dollars at, by Gangsta Boo
Plus another southern diva Mia X is coming too
We don't like dem boys who be all up in our face brah
We don't like
mastering it
Even the Japanesse are mastering it
All these things are breaking up
The mind of White Supremacy
Blackman, you don't have to bash white people
evidence for
If these things are what you mean by God
Then I believe in God but I
Don't believe in a personal
God to whom I look for comfort or for a
Natural
head nigga
Now you looking like a fruit gusher
I’m just saying shit to get you mad
If you get mad motherfucker
Then I’m glad
When I cause a scene
I don’t
fuck
Hope you get hit by a Mack truck
And don't come around forty and front and get tapped up
Cracked up, can't wait till this album is wrapped up
around town is Baby Beesh
Pimpin' in high velocity, y'all squares betta back up off me
'cause we gonna do what the hell we do
Baby Bash the ghetto
That's why I'm jukin', that candy cream with that puddin'
Is baby bash all about that cash an' that Mary Jane
You know tha game, I gots to gets tha money
goodbye (baby goodbye)
'Cause you don't want to be by (wanna be by)
The way you acting... fly (they way you acting... fly)
Girl you know you livin' a lie
tap-ons don't even worry bout it thugsta
left em in the garbage expectin they'll find an inner city youngsta
I'm an all around hustla get paid in
they know they takin care of my baby
Don't get mad, just follow me now wodie
We the real hot boys
All of them other fake niggas need to stop boy
never was the fantasy
Of what you want wanted me to be
Don't judge me so harsh little girl
So you got a playboy mommy
But when you tell em my name
the microphone master
Look, I crash ya, bash ya skull
Fucky with Mally G if you're trying to take a fall
Niggaz talk about killin and never get to it
Fuck
Grinding Hustle real hard for the money
While they party all night acting funny
Like Jax imma Playboy no Bunny
My future is bright looking Sunny
Don't doubt
Playboy
written by Liddy Clark
VERSE:
playboy
alone at the bar you think you own
ignoring every girl that calls your phone
just sipping on your
Niggas mad you know we glad baby
Coming through north-side don't you get drag baby
Hell shell hell shell nigga come down get cut up in this muthafucka
of stacks bro
I don't care, nah, I never have done
Avoid most problems by rollin up a fat one
*laugh* And learning how to laugh don
Woodzy's on a mad one
End
and replace
I could bash out your teeth, put the heat to your face
I could thrash, I could scream, I could leave in a rage
I get mad, I can't breathe til a beam
oh baby, and the songs turn again
Don't worry 'bout a damn thang
We used to be short on the avenue so broke on the avenue
I couldn't afford to have
see 'em
From A.M. to the P.M.
It's Young Baby Bash from a hustle Mus-l-I-m
I spit caps
I spit caps
And send a hoe, to the track, in Iraq
'Cause
I don’t get mad
I don’t get mad…
I,I,I don’t get mad
I don’t get mad…
Hit you up
On the phone
To see if you would answer
I dropped by
You’re not
the rooms changes
When your name ranges
People set you up
And a rapper get his chain taken
hard to see you shine
When surrounded by the shade
Once you make it
bitches pissy drunk
Got them hoes kissin' cunts and twistin' blunts
When them hoes get ghost I don't miss them stunts
Cause I pick up sluts in pickup trucks
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