[DJ Quik] Hey! You got that see through style that I can stare through (right through) Produce a track on you, I don't care to (I won't do it) But I'm sympathetic to your needin' 'Cause it ain't me your wife keeps turnin' down While she's tellin' you she bleedin' (she's lying to you) It ain't my fault I'm lookin' 23 and twenty-fo' All day long hottest tracks rockin' any show (true) Notorious for making bitches horny While you lookin' old walkin' through that corn lookin' corny (look at that nigga) And it's more than obvious that you're jealous But don't hate my style, don't hate my money, don't hate my fellas We do what we gotta do to get where we're goin' for us To be where we need to be at...believe that Stop beggin' for a beat you can't afford it (uh uh) They hotter than them pretty red Dada's I be sportin' (uh huh) 'Cause I got the home court and when I'm rappin' On my own tracks mothafucka I feel like Jordan!
Music cuts off
Music returns
[Mausberg] Now what lack that I'm the realest On top of game you fuckin' my vibe off with them homosexual ways Me and my nigga...we on some new improved shit Makin' you groove shit, get paid and move quick Nigga you gettin' mad 'cause I'm shakin' my belly In a stretch navigator makin' moves on the celly Talkin' to Stan, Tone and Quik on a conference call Get ready dogg, you ponic 'bout to take off Took the crown back, tucked it and ready for war Bustin' over 2 cars, a house note and probably more I wanna see the Madd Rapper step in my hood So I can take him fo' a shit and all them coward niggas good Love madresta, Kam and Crunk Dogg Respect a nigga who done been through war Sportin' a battle scar But there's a lotta fake niggas, sportin' a fake crown Straight up out the swapmeet, bustin' on wack underground
Music cuts off
Old man & young man Speaking
Music returns
[AMG] Yeah, uh I been around the whole damn world in a day Partied wit players and haters, told 'em the rules of the game Some in the vein, like this shit is a drug You can catch me in the new 500 on dubs I'm up in the club Wanna get naked and smoke Notice, you never see a nigga there when he broke UH UH! Somebody told me these hoes wanted to hold me If a real player dress like Goldie, y'all niggas throw in a oldie SHIT! Niggas wanna clown, clown, clown You can find me at down, down, down Dot com, bring ya mom (uh huh) She wanna see too, cartier see through Poppa in the beat Oh shit, it's a thrill Tonight a couple of mill When we party in the grill Livin' life's like a skill Too much, cruder name But baby I betcha Fuckin' wit this money here, oh c'mon man I gotta getcha
Compositores: David Marvin Blake (Dj Quik), Johnny Burns (Mausberg) ECAD: Obra #6330593