Lyrics:
the dice games up
Moms smoke, kids can't chase the ice cream truck
Girls fighting over rope, the young boys hype things up
Niggas fighting over coke,
to wreck shop
I got Tip and Shah, so whom shall I fear?
Stop look and listen, but please don't stare
So jet to the store, and buy the LP
On Jive/RCA,
He asked me not to go so fast
Slow your roll down, babe
He said he got him a little girl
She ain't no cruiser like I am
Well, you know she ain't
He asked me not to go so fast
Slow your roll down, babe
He said he got him a little girl
She ain't no cruiser like I am
Well, you know she ain't
all that new jack shit
Yo, we don't, we don't play that shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
(Please Mr. Producer, explain yourself, Mr. Rapper, please
lucky, my God! Flight of Icarus in those grubby dirty by now horribly sticky little fingers and
hands and grubby palms, and oh what else is grubby, I don't
sayin yo what the heck, I am single
It's no reason why I shouldn't try to mingle
So I met this girl by the name of maxine
Her breath didn't stink she used
loadshedding by Eskom
Dear God please save me, block everything that will hinder my success
Show me the door and please grant me access
I wanna access my inner
all that new jack shit
Yo, we don't, we don't play that shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
(Please Mr. Producer, explain yourself, Mr. Rapper, please
the freaks (let's go)
You can spot us out of town by the way that we walk
The way that we talk, cocky, the state of New York (that's right)
Hot now top down
Way back when I was just a little bitty boy
Living in a box under the stairs
In the corner of the basement of the house
Half a block down
don't you place the blame on me
As you pour yourself another drink, yeah
I guess we are who we are
Headlights shining in the dark night, I drive
don't like me fuck you and the building, you (work in)
If you see us in the club with Cîroc by the tub
We ain't have fun, nigga we (workin')
In the DJ
of the Flavor Unit
And we are Naughty By Nature, and we will just do, by terminating you
I can snap, rap, pack, click-clack, patter-pat-pat
Take that ass
you. Remember
parents, kids don't ask to be born. So I'm tell this
story and it starts back in '88.
Yo, this nigga named d-rugs
My moms dates him
Swear
to wreck shop
I got Tip and Shah, so whom shall I fear?
Stop look and listen, but please don't stare
So jet to the store, and buy the LP
On Jive/RCA,
The girls won't be on you, Fred your face is all burnt!";
I patted him on the shoulder said, ";Thanks for stopping by.";
Then I opened up the door and said,
the cops"
We just some motherfuckin' KIDS
We just some motherfuckin' KIDS
We love and miss you Mac
For those of y'all who don't know man
Mac is
on a bitch and you know she a hottie
I just bought a new whip and
It go fast like a Harley
Chopper get to singing and
It sound like Charlie
Yeah, yeah, uncle
But its so hard, I don't seen brothers kill brothers quick
Mothers done lie sick, from ,meeting up with my girl
She done make my pockets fat from
Mom, I know I let you down
And though you say the days are happy
Why is the power off and I'm f- up?
And mom, I know he's not around
But don't
Girl Nicolette, don't like lame cats
Tell me what you think about that, let's go
[Chorus]
Love that you made money, really don't matter
If I see
world, winter war weather
This is wu-block music for the black hooded champions
Step in the car and go
Round down by your lady and I
Be waiting
that my kids be a bigger me, they can't get rid of me
My diamonds be VVs (VVs)
They don't wan' see us on TV unless it's the news (the news)
I got
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