Lyrics:
see you glance at me
That's why I'm asking, b
So let's party, b
Come and dance with me
If I'm out on my own
Then I can look at you looking at me
told you upfront that I was gonna do you
I'm gonna do you, I'm gonna do you
I'm gonna do you, woh, woh, oh, woh
Jungle brother, face you like a man
you know I want to do you
I'm gonna do you I'm gonna do you
I'm gonna do you woh, woh, oh, woh
Now my name is Mike G, no need to act stupid
You
to Jers'
Gun under my undershirt
I'm hollerin' "Gilla House!" drunk off the Thunderbird
My bitch be like, "Damn nigga wash yo' feet"
She say the hair on my
the fucking time) so what?
So what, man? This is fucking my house (the fucking baby's crying all the fucking time)
(Your fucking ass is gonna end up right
(Ice Cube, do you think you could give me some money to get
my hair done?) How short's your hair right now?
(Well you know I get it done every
And my old man plays the trombone
And works out at the track
He says that he loves me
Even though its not his baby
He says that he'll raise him up
but the man wasn't doing it
But that's the only excuse she could give him
He said, "Mama, I can't take it. I've got to leave you. I'm gonna leave
what I'm gonna do with it, you worm? I'm gonna make it fuck something! that's right! you won't get any of it...because you're disgusting! an' I do
Eed
"Ice Cube, do you think you could give me some money to get my hair done?"
What's wrong with your hair right now?
"Well you know I get it done
what I'm sayin'?
True, true man, yo, man, who's your boy over there, man?
Oh that's my man from out of town
Oh word man? Yo what's up, man? My name is
what I'm sayin'?
True, true man, yo, man, who's your boy over there, man?
Oh that's my man from out of town
Oh word man? Yo what's up, man? My name is
'Cause I'm out in the club
And I'm sipping that bubb
And you're not gonna reach my telephone
Can call all you want but there's no one home
And you're not
in Philly, Penn
It's silly when girls sell their souls because it's in
Look at where you be in, hair weaves like Europeans
Fake nails done by
step back
She claimin' that your man is her man
Gonna get her wig knocked way back
But you gotta act right and not let it lack now
I'm a lover, not
bottles of pills
Think your boy is startin' to feel like a spoiled carton of milk
'Cause it just occurred
My girl's cheatin', I'm kickin' that fuckin'
And wit no pen I'm sorta like a bomb BOOM
Young toon, yea that's what my people call me
Fifty thousand for the cross, trying to keep the reaper off me
I
a party?
No, it's just me here man, Imma musician.
Uh we know who you are.
And I'm a star in a movie,
that's my projectory here, and the music's already down
a little herb and some nerds
spitting words, by the curb?"
Yeah that's me
Got Cali in our hearts, man
Music in our soul
And ganja is the answer
But reggae
at will
Did seven on the slide, 8 worldwide
I'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9
I hear 'em crying, "You gon' sell out?" Ya damn right!
I
on these words, this is my affidavit (wow)
And if you want a legal battle, send your ass to David (that's my lawyer)
Uh, I'm half-man, half-amazin'
Say man
What's that boy?
I want to tell you about your girlfriend,
What about my girl?
But you don't look strong enough to take the message
I'm
some gravy
I'm gonna make you one happy lady
You can make a man out a boy like me
Let your pussy hair grow wild and free
Like Bob Ross livin' up inside
gonna just be young Wild and free today
I think I'm gonna thank God that I'm just me today
Chase the clouds just for fun
Count my blessings one by one
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