Yesh Yesh Ya'll

"This is for the real niggas" Yo, hard beats like this keep my mentality raw I G off C 4 lyrics to blow off them Lex door My tex-ture be the kind that explore MC's, I blow 'em out, metaphor after metaphor I'm more wetter than your boy bigger So how you figure you can fuck with this rap unemployed nigga I should own a fly bitch house and a Benz But I got chickenheads criminals and broke friends That love to get ends, keep the seventeens spinnin' Pull out from my jaw linin', commence to splittin' Brains and body parts that motion couldn't picture Cause when I'm shittin' niggas hit more decks than a skipper Mr. and Mrs. Howe, Mary-Anne and Ginger Gilligan, you need the Professor to take the rigor- Mortis out, I got orders to kill em softly I wouldn't leave a trace if I died and police chalked me Who's the Boss G? You better radio the walkie talkie For these Fatal Attract MC's that stalk me Got a big dick in your bitch clit When I flip this I got more work than a Olympic gymnast Bust it, I cut the mustard, on any track Milkier than Similac when I'm next up to bat "Redman is on the mic and I'ma" "Dope motherfucker, yeah, you best ask somebody" "Yes, yes, y'all, and you don't stop" Fuck the talk I walk whatever I claim to do Knock a mule on her ass and turn the pussy black and blue You couldn't run up if your Fighter was Virtua I'm a round-the-clock lyricist, I sleep in my work boots It's a Thin Line Between Love and Hate It's a thin line between the trigger and the finger of a thirty-eight Dust by far, my rap repertoire Be the art of murderin' makin' it hard for you to spar We can chill and puff the ganja, but don't be mad when the Funk Doctor Spock smoke it with your baby mama Get off my dick and tell your bitch to come here Male groupies gettin' shaky when I come from the rear Hah, that get on your nerve neighbour that play the Music loud as fuck three in the mornin' off a paper With mad Zul in the L-S-C In the downtown area, scannin' the perimeter All my boos with the open toed shoes If you ain't gettin' that pussy eaten right, let me show you Then let you taste these, this Brown Fox said "Ain't No Nigga like the" -- Funk Doctor Spock G "Yes, yes, y'all, and you don't stop" As I dive into the crowd I wanna see who the fuck gettin' loud Who the fuck runnin' off at their mouth? I let my nigga 50 Cent knock that ass out Word bond, bitches talkin' bout pourin out Cristal And Dom P they better stick to Chandon Blackin' out wildin', smackin' out weaves Breakin' niggas cheap ass chains and medallions You're just a part time sucker in the game Shit is real motherfucker start namin' names And if you name my name I whoop ass like Steven Seagal Give you Under Siege 2 without the fuckin' train Let your brains hang from the 808 bang And if I wrecked your cipher then my Squad is to blame "Yes, yes, y'all, and you don't stop" We'll be right back with some more funk shit For all you stankin' asses after we pay these bills