Lyrics:
box, I rock on the mic
And all the rhymes that I say, all the people like
I get the crowd jumping, get the girl's hearts pumping
All the party people
to pass them bitches
From, "Girl he too black", to, "Girl
Who that?"
From a lower 9 shack to where I'm livin' at
I done came a long road my nigga
Just peep
occurred that you heard I
Reduced the friction
With crucifixion
Let loose the mix
Then boost the piston
Eric hit 'em with' some of that
Cut like
proceeds, preoccupied with everything
I think it's 'bout time I sing of nothing
I pray my girl don't turn to my baby mother yet
But in fact I do, I need by
at least a grand
Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats
But just
hear that name and place a trigger to the figure who
It blew through and if ya try ta rip, I throw a bigger blue shoe to you
And if you take the shoe,
(that y'all!)
And that's all!
Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage, I leave
that shit
Smoke it all down to the ashes bitch
213 with another classic hit
[Nate Dogg]
I'm in love with Mary Jane
She is my main thang
Stay away from
that
She got a bomb ass pearl, but it's more than that
She knows what it is and she play a role
Every girl's not built for it, it takes a toll
She
how to act in a drought
See baby girl I realized, my definition of a real nigga was skewed
My views misshaped by new mixtapes
That confirmed the shit
and park big whips (oh!)
Getting' them whips and bounce outta town
Take trips ride slow through them hoods and park at the main strip
Baby girl gimme yo
wanted was Snoopy)
That's right
Someone's at my door, baby, who could it be?
Someone wants to score and get laid by the D-O-Double G
Hey girl, what's
right
Someone's at my door, baby, who could it be?
Someone wants to score and get laid by the D-O-double G
Hey girl, what's your name? You wanna go
of the main reasons I don't give a fuck.
Chances are usually not good
'Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And gettin' jacked by the you-know-who.
When
Got bitches fallin' like August could sell bullshit to a tourist
My bitch is badder than me, call that Adam & Eve
I do tricks on my skateboard, not up
brought me back to that McDonald's
Took it to my stashbox, 560 State Street
Catch me in the kitchen like a Simmons whippin' pastry
Cruisin' down 8th St,
oh, girl, your body good
Boardroom smart, but I love it when they hood (yeah)
Aquazzura Amazon sandals in that emerald green
Same color gown by
of Bar-be-Q potato chips
Plus your main honey loved us
Slip her some bomba, she'll fuck twenty of us
Yo, you pack that little ass gun like 'Harlem Nights'
around with him, got that F&N
I’m in that BMW and F is on my rims (Forgis)
Every trap from A to Z
(Every trap from A to Z)
These white girls want that E
that rap won't last
Radio was playin' it
Street kids were sayin' it
Soulsonic Force had the funk and
They were bringing it
Then we threw the Whodini
the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin' projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a Tec
Outside as I'm stuck, by enemies who put fear
the f back
'Fore we out the guns and chest check, respect that
Any girl I met that, hit that love the way I spit that
I don't kit kat, push your wig
Nas
Then we mix that shit, tip that shit
Pass it around, hook the hood, everybody get wit' it
[Chorus]
[Nas]
Through thick
A girl wants a man with a gangsta plan (62 bottles, bring 'em over here man)
Well all my nigga's just with that honey
Pretty girls, pretty girls (Stop
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