Lyrics:
girls are trouble too
Next time a guy try to give you a play just turn your head and dis him and walk away
Excuse me ice cream tee
Hello how do you do
The basement, yes where the beats and the rhymes flow
Peace I gotta go, grapster’s out the door of the basement
Of the basement! next we got, a special guest
baby making
Gotta chop that freak sitting next to me
Bitch look like some nialating
Hey sunday morning 'round eleven roll by interupting in
and a pistol by his side
Uh, huh, uh, huh, uh, huh
He rode right up to Miss. Mousie's door, uh, huh
He rode right up to Miss. Mousie's door, uh, huh
He rode
Crooked cops
This whole thing that you seeing
Was predicted by PAC
We tired of banging on these
Doors, it's time to break these locks
So the system
Can't
my door
I already knew who the party was for
All of my pain found a partner in that room
And the devil's tail swayed with the tune
Make that Black
apartments overlook the traffic lights next to the rails it's a hot day, it's a, it's a hot day a lazy day for some but I'm bringing from the inside all these
an unbelievable night
I called it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in
Hit the spot, spot my next victim
I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin'
Came to sip vodka, shit
Yeah)
Can you fill me in?
(Let's talk about it)
I was checking this girl next door when her parents went out
She phoned said, "Hey boy, come
of you
Reminds me of you
Yes, party people, we drop and feet go,
Some make your fist-pump, hands up and feet go,
Crazy look at all these ladies
Tonight
sweat
Get dressed and hit the club in a cold vest
God damn, girl, you so sexy, cold shit
But why they still riding to your old shit?
Party by
every day by day
Turn up all night everyday Friday
Got party at the next door
And you know we go to party at the next door
Holla at my niggas tell them
I pop some Percocets, then I pop some Xanax
Sitting back strapped, cocked, plotting on your man next
Jacked a nigga for his work, then stretch it
I said we came in this bitch tonight to murder things
We gonna leave this bitch tonight a murder scene
In black from head to toe we murder clean
Do
Yeah, P!
(La musica de Harry Fraud)
I could tell by your beard you don't love Allah
You got the Bryant Gumbel face
It go, waste removal, we
In store signing autographs at the mall
Next in line was a fly girl standing tall
Signed my name and said give me a call baby ya know
the girl
go ahead and call the cops
'cause 'em loud ass next door neighbors are home
Yeah
And we come up to tear the block up
Beat it loud banging like
Been infused by Craig Hodges and Abdul-Rauf
Examples like Olympic, Black Power salutes
To Panther troops, I saw as I pursued my truth
If racism is
you sign, Mr. Ghostface, package for a friend, here
Right by the X, my bad, here's a pen
[Method Man]
Gucci flip flops, I box my way to the kitchen
a slug in my back
But I adapted quickly, suckers tried to get me
Now the fools better run 'cause this just drive-by Billy
Little black boy from
That by the song's end, I probably start another trend
I know everything you wan' do
I did all that by the age of twenty-one
By twenty-two I had that
Aaay
Aaay
B
B
B
And you know what come next
C
Party party party
Party over here
Party party party
Party over here
Party party party
Party everywhere
go to my room for the after, after party
Y'all know what happens next
Hypnotiq and a rated X, got her singin the greatest sex
Now on dubs, rollin
nigga
Yeah
[Silkk The Shocker]
Year round party
y'all get em up, get it up
What up Snoop?
[Snoop Dogg]
Wake up, jump out of bed and get dressed
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