Lyrics:
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
Police murderer, I'm causing hysteria
My troops roll up with a strange force
I was trapped in a cage and let out by
to get my roll on
On a Jesus songs on, make them bitches get low
I get that ass raised up, like Dr. Dre six four
Hey, come up in my hood, bet them
Creepin, hittin switches, bumpin, riding low
Danger sittin shotgun, Crook's rollin up one
Got the rag-top down in this hot ass sun
Rollin, by the park we go
Just like Vicky
I cannot fuck with the bitch
Please don't temp me
I get petty
Square ass nigga jack he been ready
Trapped by his Queen but the boy ain't
catching jacks just made a couple thou
A nigga reach for sum in a party I'm blowing in a crowd
Finally tuck his goofy ass to sleep I'm finally lay him down
Now if you got yo hat tilted to tha side
And you always down to jack a bitch for her ride
Or the colors that you rep make others upset
Then you
niggas straight into a heart attack
Life is like a relapse
Can you see that?
My name is Jamie Madrox, represented by the bat
Dark night, dark skies
and mayonnaise, and we smoke always
Passing by these haters like we got all A's
[Backbone]
Say say say say Crack, what's the word on the street?
Nothing but
Luv and my nigga Young Lay
Spit that shit
Cuddies perved by the corner, stout, herb
Got me twisted, mo' cold killin murders
Them brothers gettin'
that shit by my yah (Yahh)
Spent 40 dollars on Apple jacks
Getting fit doing some Jumping jacks
Caught me lacking that's because I always lack
I'm
"When you wanna get sexual?"
She said, "However I fit in your schedule, I'm flexible"
Expired tags on the Saturn
Got Kathryn Beck in the back in Daisy
If this don't work I'ma trap again
My bitch don't work by the ass again
I got a badass designer bitch, look like she work at Saks Fifth
Got
I'll gladly get it knockin'
Chunky nine right by my side look like a midget walkin'
Watch the shit that you talkin', promise its with me often
I got
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Wooo! There's gonna be a lot of punchin in this motherfucker
Y'all better be swift with that punch button Jack
Biggie.. Biggie..
Because payback is a motherfuckin' mission
To the sharp-ass rocks slippin' on us but we rock
It comes to writin' on us derision
Sendin' you a voice now
That cat that never puts shit in
But want residuals
Shady ass self serving individuals
Beware
Haters never play fair
There's somebody out there
Tryna
left wrist high voltage
Freaky baby, yeah, this is yo’ shit
Put your hands on the wall so you don't fall
Bust it open
She said pussy get wet by my voice
the fuck is mine
My nigga I'll take it
Grab a player hater by the neck, choke him out and try to break it
Gimme your money, drop them keys
It's a jack
She got a pretty ass face and the feet to match
I put them both on my chest when I'm beating that
She got a pretty ass face and the feet to match
I
Red Chip Funk
Performed by Twenty-something DJ Franklin
Lyrics and arrangement by Raymond Francisco Quinton
Produced by Rabid City Records
(C)
now you in a cell tryin' to post bail by mornin'
CHORUS:
[Starang]:Now in the back of my mind, yo I really do hope
[Tek]:that motherfuckers out here
don't see nothing wrong with a little brotha jack
So say "what up?" to the 187 FAC
Nappy head ass muthafuckas wearin' plats
Kickin' back like
and that's a fact
She gon workout on the dick fuck around do jumpin' jacks
Growin' fast feel like the flash
Fucked her once then I gotta blast
I'm starting
a loaded tec nine under my motherfuckin' coat
Niggas wanna jack the back, never nope
I stick my gat down your throat, and tell your ass no
The forty's
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