Hey dudes my interludes more fatter than most niggaz LP's So don't sell me to stale cheese I'm more nicer than Little Red Robin Hood's grandmama puffin on ganja sippin on a Cherry Bianca My grand finale's like an alley when it's rowdy kick more bars than the penile G And let my nine clap loudly Click click bee yow bang booyaka!! What am I do to ya? It's somethin new to ya Like screwin ya, all over my studi-ah Ride on my MP-60 and let the S-950 squeeze your titties That quickly I hooked you, now fix me with your lips B...otch, unloosen my belt thinkin to grab the crotch But before you do move my glock before it shoot my cock
And see basically them trick bitches get no dap (word) And see basically Redman album is no joke (word) And see basically I don't get caught up at my label (word) Cause I kill when they fuck with food on my dinner table (word)
I drop a punchline at lunchtime cause I'm a Close Encounter of the None Kind with dumb rhymes I battle allay'all at one time So fuck all you fools out there with the large vocabulary in your sentence, I don't need that shit to pay my rent with, huh And to the nosey snake-ass hoes I ask you Why you be acting all fly when your monkey-ass work at fast food? And why is it everytime that a multiplatinum artist always use the underground to make a comeback? Is it fair to the hardcore niggaz that rap? That don't give a fuck about the radio plus the next bitch at that? And being hardcore and mad about wearing high-tech boots and black skelly hats? And making fake-ass frowns because your best buddy packs?
Think about it Sip on a chocolate thai, and let your brain fall out of focus This is another episode, coming live from the Funkadelic man himself Yeah Ahhh Huh Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
