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Альбом Luniz

Lunitik Muzik (20.01.1998)
Intro (DJ Thump & Mengesha Mystro Francis)
Highest Niggaz In The Industry (feat. E-40 and B-Legit)
Funkin Over Nuthin' (feat. Too Short and Harm)
In My Nature (feat. 8Ball & MJG)
Jus Mee & U (feat. Raphael Saadiq)
Game (Interlude) (TK Kirkland)
Is It Kool? (feat. MoKenStef)
$ad Millionaire (feat. Brownstone)
Killaz On The Payroll (feat. Phats Bossilini, Madd Maxx & Poppa LQ)
Phillies (feat. Poppa LQ)
Mob Shit (feat. Swoop G, 3X Krazy & Cydal)
Y Do Thugz Die (feat. Val Young)
Hypnotize (feat. Redman)
20 Bluntz A Day (feat. The 2 Live Crew and Christión)
. . .


[Нет текста]

. . .

(feat. E-40 & B-Legit)


I challenge you B-Legit, an E-40,
to Numskull an Yukmouth,
lets see who get the highest.

[Chorus: Yuk, Num, 40, Legit]

The highest niggaz in the industry,
you high like me B-Legit?
(it's all you Yuk.)
The highest niggaz in the industry,
an when you see us backstage nigga,
pass that weed,

The highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water you drunk as me?
Anytime Numskull (then lets get keyed)
(we the drunkest niggaz in the industry)
The highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water, you drunk like me?
(Numskull you numb like me?)
Well lets get keyed.

[Verse 1: E-40]

I wish I had some half,
mutha fuckin plastic, I'm on the floor, an I can't stop throwin up,
devastatin, grippin the toilet, regergutatin,
like a fat ass rat,
on a big ass peaunt blue trap,
I'm stuck,
can't move,
mud slides,
that are made up,
can't focus,
I hang out wit,
commrads an cromies,
dudes an boys an,
mutha fuckaz juss betta hope that he don't get liquor poison,
(liquor poison)
mutha fuckaz best believe that they makin some kind of sense.

[Verse 2: Numskull]

I been wit this Gin an Juice,
cranberry an Vodka,
I juss came back from my pillow case slobbin out binaca,
I been tucked away,
cuddled wit an Ivy toilet,
but I'm back now,
commits to get it on,
not spoil it,
I'm Drink-A-Lot,
take a jug of sumpthin big an do my thizzle,
swig a grill of milk an start to whistle,
it's missle from the funk-nik,
I can't see it,
40 Water, you killin me wit this cheap shit.

[Chorus: Num, 40, Yuk]

Cuz we the highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water you drunk like me?
well lets get keyed,
the highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water you drunk as me?
(Anytime Numskull)
well lets get keyed.

The highest niggaz in the industry,
you can't out-smoke me!
The highest niggaz in the industry,
an when you see us back stage,
nigga pass that weed.


[Verse 3: B-Legit]

I can pin a marajuana nigga,
love it like my mama nigga,
an if yo sacks ain't actin up,
back it up,
ain't no dub's like the ones I got,
an I'm forced to give 'em back cuz my smoke don't stop,
got me grooved to the curb,
tryin to get this mill,
deep down in Killafornia where they grow good kill,
an my folks,
be feelin I'm a big 'ol pimp,
they way I post in the Indies,
smoke it on the hill.

[Verse 4: Yukmouth]

well juss pass me the el flamo,
my afro grow like Rudy Ramo,
blunts to the facial turn into a human tornado,
yes I'm able,
cut up the gonga,
I'm Philly label blunt sponsered,
blaze mo than a Grateful Dead concert,
so sweat the collar so I stay out yo bod-day,
I'm mighty morphine haterz couldn't stop me,
B-Legit drop the bomb like Nazis,
20 blunts a day,
high got me smokin big weed wit yo baby mommie.

[Chorus: Num, 40, Yuk]

The highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water you drunk as me?
(anytime Numskull)
Well lets get keyed.
The highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water you drunk like me?
(Numskull you numb like me?)
well lets get keyed.

The highest niggaz in the industry,
you high like me B-Legit,
(it's all you Yuk)
the highest niggaz in the industry,
an when you see us backstage, nigga,
pass that weed.

[Verse 5: Yukmouth]

y'all better our name ain't reefa,
or I be hittin mo bank jobs than Latiffa,
get it shot up,
in a hot ride, wit a millameta,
cannibus sintiva I blow in the challes,
you smoke mo than me,
like the Cosby show nigga I challenge,
let's see who be walkin off balanced,
fuck em wit Yuk it's curtians,
I smoke mo than Michael Irvin.

[Verse 6: Numskull]

Swervin big Lexus,
throwin 40 bottles out the roof,
breath about 100 proof,
slammin bot-els,
rod-els shakin my back,
so gone,
I feel like hurlin off the yak, (tell 'em Num),
come on,
roll the window down,
let me get a tad bit of breeze,
my whole vision is seein threes.

[Verse 7: B-Legit]

I got a plug so silly,
smokin on a Philly,
mix it up wit 40,
bitch I know you hear the music,
it's me B-Legit an the Ice Cream Man,
in the land,
we juss high as we can,
we in Japan,
smokin on a beela wit bitch,
some niggaz niggaz about they mutha fuckin riches.

[Verse 8: E-40]

Yeah, y'all might be high like Willie Nelson, (Willie Nelson)
true dat lil b,
but lets play ping-pong,
here take a swig of some of this make your stomach bleed,
about to re-check myself back into the re-habilitation center,
alcohol an drug program,
fix me up in that mutha fucka kick it, (wit who?)
Dave Perity an Jean Claude Van Damme,
you ain't tryin to see me boy, (boy)
yo nigga Numskull be drinkin like a sailor (sailor, sailor),
you niggaz betta stick to smokin weed.

[Chorus: Yuk, Legit, Num, 40]

The highest niggaz in the industry,
you can't outsmoke me.
(you can't outsmoke me.)
The highest niggaz in the industry,
an when you see us backstage nigga,
pass that weed.

The highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water you drunk as me?
(Num you can't out drink me)
well lets get keyed.
The highest niggaz in the industry,
40 Water you drunk like me?
(Numskull you numb like me?)
well lets get keyed.

The highest niggaz in the industry,
uh-huh, uh-huh,
Yo piano man, take us up on outta here playboy.
My get back skillz, my get back skillz.


I hurt my ass off by Drink-A-Lot,
but I'm about my cash,
but if an,
ignit mutha fucka wanna step to me,
I wouldn't hesitate to blast. (blast)


[burps an throwin up til end]

. . .

(feat. Harm, Too $hort)

[Radio personality talking]

Really hasn't been brought up too clearly.
The Luniz an Too $hort everything has been squashed.

[Too $hort talking]

Yeah we want everybody to know, that it's, you know, the Oak-Town ain't
about this.

[Yukmouth talking]

The media hypes up things when they're wrong, but doesn't give enough
praise when everything is going good.

[Too $hort talking]

We should juss do a cut, don't even mention no beef or nothing, juss
drop it on 'em.

[Numskull talking]

You know it's politics, that made it sound like that. But it's all
unified you see it's all Jesus.

[Too $hort]


[Too $hort talking]

Man what's it all about? Ain't about shit. Nigga call me up talking
about, man it's on. Your niggaz fucking wit my niggaz an it's on. Nigga
what we fronting for? If it ain't about this money, ain't about this
life an death nigga, shit, what's really going on?

[Verse 1: Too $hort]

Jumped all in a niggaz face front him on tha spot,
don't cross the game, unless ya wanna get shot,
but who made the rules do you recall?,
who's the judge when it comes to this street law?,
is it me?,
or is it my crew?,
my niggaz get down, yo niggaz do too,
mutha fuckaz try to tell me don't fuck my life,
cuz ain't nuthin nice,
ya gotta pay the price,
ya know them dudes,
walkin in them same shoes,
it's brand new to you,
but the game is used,
I got it from them old niggaz,
they so cool,
now we juss roll through,
all the hoes know who,
ball in yo town,
don't front, it's too little,
cuz fake ass niggaz get punked fo your riddles,
so what's it all about,
think about it later,
to all you real gangstaz,
an all you perpitrators.

[Chorus x2: Harm]

got me funkin,(funkin)
over nuthin man,(funkin man)
why ya wanna funk wit me??

(Speak on it boy!)

[Verse 2: Yukmouth]

Sometimes you step in some shit you can't get out of,
niggaz who talk hella shit,
is who I'm quick to sock the shit out of,
sniff powder, wit all yo hoes off my door,
got em froze like pocino,
ya spendin all yo doe,
on the average ass,
stanky ass,
run a gank ass, fuck everybody fast,
juss an Oakland ass hoe,
now I know why niggaz wanna knock you out like glass Joe,
all that playa hatin shit, ain't asked fo,
you must got problems wit niggaz makin they cash flow,
you baffled,
you mutha fuckin youngstaz,
so go wit your old ass flow,
I gots ta have jaw-jacked hoe,
cuz some of niggaz wonder,
why us playaz do this,
I'm under,
caught up in some shit I didn't have nuthin to do wit,
the truth is,
you know my funk is through,
fuckin ride fo a nigga,
if that nigga ain't gonna do shit,
ya wanna be ass pimp,
gettin yo ass whipped is like an every year event.
Dig it.

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 3: Numskull]

I'm too mutha fuckin much fo myself,
so funkin wit niggaz close to home is sumpthin else,
if you ain't gonna blow a nigga head off,
then that's the end of it,
concentrate on makin mill an start spendin,
now this is where my do it for myself begins,
cuz in '97,
I ain't makin no new mutha fuckin friends,
now I got no enemies,
I hold no grudges,
from now on I'm overseein my own budget,
(fo real!!)
we all did our dirt nigga,
but now that's all forgivin,
Chris you my nigga til the ending,
I started wit Dru,
I started wit Smoke-A-Lot,
hangin wit me, so I gives a fuck,
Nummy-Num gonna go ahead an drink his self to death,
nigga you wanna chop it up wit me,
go through death yoself,
I ain't tryin to hear nuthin,
stead of throwin away skrillion,
I'd rather be fuckin.

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 4: Too $hort]

I signed my name on the dotted line,
niggaz know I did it first,
an when you first,
you know you get it worse,
I suck the game up,
I try to pass it on,
niggaz from the Bay,
gettin they cash on,
from Frisco,
to Vallejo,
to the Big "O",
fuck that yeh-yo,
hundred thousand units,
make a nigga half a million dollaz,
if you sittin on a grip,
I have to holla at yo later,
you can get rich in a minute,
two words,
make an accapella you can hear every word,
I spit this game you never ever heard,
you know how you be quick to pop niggaz,
these record companies be quick to rob niggaz,
I say "$hort Dogg",
an now they pay me,
don't pay these youngstaz,
an watch 'em get crazy.

[Chorus: til end]

[Too $hort talking during chorus]

Fuck around an run up in yo shit. Yeah. That's the new thing goin baby,
we runnin up in record companies writin our own mutha fuckin checks.
Sign on the dotted line nigga. What ya really gettin? What's really goin
on? Watch out. Niggaz in the town, bout to unite, we goin nationwide.
Oakland style, BITCH! Oh you really thought that wasn't gonna happen?
Shit. Come on now.

. . .

(feat. Eightball & MJG)

[Verse 1]

As I preceed to count my dividends
plenty ends that I done made, with plenty bitches
with plenty men that they done played, I'm laid back up
in the cut with a cup of yak
I raise up with all the game that I've been holdin back
take your pumps off bitch, let me check out yo heals
we pimps from Houston Texas to California for real
my pockets hurtin baby, I need some financial love
so get where you supposed to and, do
what you does, get your facial done baby
do your physic well, no holdin jail over
resent mail, no hoes with no clothes
torn up and ripped apart
domestic violence bitches want out battered and scared
you fake hoes take of your drawls take yo pajamas
beat it with a hammer and scrape it across the ground
I found a new bitch for MJG, and the Luniz
this pimpin got me on cloud 10, I'm feelin zumie


Hustlin, It's in my nature
Hustlin, don't be afraid
Hustlin, It's in my nature
Hustlin, don't be afraid

[Verse 2]

I'm creatin' havok on hood spots
the hustle don't quit until the good stop
but don't sleep we leavin' cars on wood blocks
an lookin for could be nots drivin by lookin wide-eyed
gone acid washed jeans T-shirt lookin tyedyed
FM beats lettin loose on big trips to Vegas
candy green polly dubbed nips lookin outrageous
big pimpin and panderin, big boostin and gamblin
everything is all good until police start manhandlin
picture me grappled, scrappled, snatched up by yo asshole
indicted on some chump charges that I didn't even ask for
gettin hastled by wild boys, like gettin lassoed by cowboys
any instructions given he put some more shit on like, now boy
like I'm supposed to jump out my Nikes and start sweatin
boss said anything, I'm makin the plan to start jettin off
oo- ah dont look behind until my shoes stop
the only thing on my mind is losin you cop


[Verse 3]

Someone's knockin at my door, oh, who could it be
big baller with the sawed off choppin off all below your knees
I testify, not glorify, when I get high
tell all that listen what I see through my blood shot eyes
my peers they die, why, over they set they ride on cheddar cheese
on they knees, how, one to the head behind them keys
I dip through, the town on a rocket ship sittin on twinkie
smokin sticky, and breathin until my breathe get stinky
pops that pinky, never could seem to get his shit together
ran like DMC, left me livin thougher than leather, teenage eyes
soakin up the streets like a sponge, drugs and guns
and freakin hoes seemed to be so fun, from the beginnin
I've been sittin tryin to be winnin, dissin bitches
fuckin hoes, conversatin with women, workin out
pimp ass nigga since my day of birth, its in my blood nigga
I'm gonna hustle till I leave this earth


[Verse 3]

Nigga, it's in my blood to fuck around with these thugs
straight villans, drug dealin, 38 snuff consume niggas buck pealin
I love millions, plus stackin them chips on up to the ceiling
sittin on fat like banks, wit out no scratch and no dank
we gettin bank, to set it off like Jada Pinkett
in a major way, just witness, business flossin
boss playas kickin champagne wishes before this rap business
playas I went from rags to riches
to havin cash and bad ass bitches
since day one, yo nigga been slangin that A-1 yola
hit ups savings, for razor blades and bakin soda, paper
chasin, usin V-12 to swell up the cola, baby just shakin
turnin the liquid form into bolas, I Chef like Raekwon
those friends that wanna blaze
one come over, dropped the napalm, until you scream
straight cream on up, coughin up they lungs they come back screamin
for more when it's over, slangin these head rhymes to young soldiers
these ??? known as hustlers, nigga

[until end]

. . .

(feat. Raphael Saadiq)

Nummy-Num playboy
I remember when we was hella broke dude
We just had a dream right?
We made it happen dude

Jus me and you
We made it, went from broke to havin' thangs
Jus me and you
Ooh baby, coming way up out the game
Jus me and you
We made it, went from broke to havin' change
Jus me and you
Ohh baby, and the songs turn again
Don't worry bout a damn thang

We used to be short on the avenue so broke
on the avenue I couldn't afford to have a brew
how it happened dude just me and you
I use to drink brew after you
you had your daughter first my baby son was born right after you
now we making cash with Dru
oh look what havin' cash would do
playahatas come after you
if they blast at you
i'd be the first one to prove what the mass would do
one ain't better than havin' two
looney individuals off cash and brew
lace the avenues boy I ain't mad at you
hindu drinkin glass with you, cheers
we lasted through years what we have to do
we finally here, I got 5 showed on the billboard live
doin' songs with Too Short, courtesy of jive
front page of the Vibe, live and direct,
Rafael Saadiq freak that beat chorus and drumset
make your ears wet like sex, who waitin to come next
with pavey rolex
just me and you


We risked it and killed in cali before we make bread
creating our heaven on earth but it's worse we cursed from birth
now turn money and keepin moms happy got me gladly livin lavelle
I say we blessed to have mail
big willie, I'm numb to the world baby
don't speak among thangs unless it pays me
you never see yuckmouth weighin circumstances
you never see numbskull flossin takin chances
advancement is okay doe and cheatin is alright
and it's best to have some killa's on the payroll, day and night
stick and move pick and choose licks
Benet wasn't in it that's why Benet didn't benefit
believe my story the tale of glory didn't make me believe
that in america I never had to worry
Cupid wasn't stupid but never was Numb and Yuck
it was all dreams and wishes, game and luck
Just me and you


It was gonna happen man
First we got 5 on it
Now we got 5 on big beats
Rafael Saadiq, DJ Quik, G 1
That's how it happened man
Once you get large do your thang
Big thangs man

Hey when you saw my show in '94
you didn't know we'd blow like Nitroclycerin
Girbaud, Tommy Hill, Timberland
Playboy I use to rock a pendelton, offecer arrests a gentleman
now I'm spending big deusch marks on German women
in the red light district way out in Amsterdam kickin it
Adam and Eve coffee shop purchase grams wicked
disappeared like the grand wizard dig it
trying to be the richest young black brothas in the business

I heard so many times it was hopeless, bogus
accordin to both of us the world was untouched we had to focus
I had to explain thangs to the fullest
figured out what we could and couldn't
and made plans to get the puddin'
there's too many rules to made and broke
the mail is to be made so lets fade a toast
now tell these folks to let me be all I can be
so the L-U-N-I-Z will go down is history


. . .

Game (Interlude)

[Нет текста]

. . .

[Intro: Yukmouth]
Stress, that's all y'all hear, I like a bag of stress
(Is that right?), baby mamma's own
Speak on this, uh

[Chorus: Yukmouth]
My baby mamma, why y'all be crazy daily
Hit us up with drama, playin with babies
And tryin to break your player partners
Wonder why we blaze weed and steadily smokin marijuana?
Your baby mamma, YOUR MAMMA!

My baby mamma, probably been screwed
by so many dudes that she's confused
Keep makin moves and breakin fools and V-12's like you and I
I flew in high of Endo and I.C.E.
That baby's supposed to look like me
Girl, youse a lie, now who's them eyes?
Where did he get that big-ass hair-fro?
Lookin like a baby macks hair-drum, huh
Platinum, until my bread come
So she can try to sue me and do me
like they did my man Num, my baby mamma
The typical groupie, she watch me go from
squattin the hoopie, to clockin loochie and the prowl
I see woman livin me coochie like, catch (catch)
Go, go smoke-a-lot Rolex stretch in the crowd, grab a bitch, ey
Throw up your hands if you're H-O-support
Throw up your hands if you're going to court hey
The life that you live is long not short hey
Dig it, you catch a nigga like me smokin weed
on the porch with your baby mamma

[Chorus: Yukmouth]
My baby mamma, why y'all be crazy daily
Hit us up with drama, playin with babies
And tryin to break your player partners
Wonder why we blaze weed daily smokin marijuana?
Your baby mamma, YOUR MAMMA!
Your baby mamma
I know she freak nasty something like a black Madonna
To get me back behind my back
She probably fuck my partner
but you can have her player partner
Yo, cause I forgot, my baby mamma (YOUR MAMMA!)

My baby mamma, not dat, different from many same schemes
To conceive a nigga baby and basically fuck up everything
Bring your whole castle to ruins
If you don't see your baby in my presence then I'm suing
I knew you was scandalous, man-less, but I took a chance though
Now every time a nigga get paid, I see your hands hoe (ice that dough)
You stick the D.A. on me, and even worse than that
you got my little baby daughter thinkin daddy phony
But will she grow up; you tell her your faulty tales
When you took my essence, I check and spent all the mail
I was in jail, you told lies to my mum
Scooped the next nigga and sucked him at the prom
Now I'm, going to court for welfare-back payments
Because I didn't keep receipts and bank statements
I got the lead on ya, you only daddy's little girl
because I think your daddy's sweet on ya
Your baby mamma

[Chorus: Yukmouth]
Why y'all be crazy daily
Hit us up with drama, playin with babies
And tryin to break your player partners
Wonder why we blaze weed and daily smokin marijuana?
Your baby mamma, YOUR MAMMA!
Your baby mamma
I know she freak nasty something like a black Madonna
To get me back behind my back
She probably fuck my partner
but you can have her player partner
Yo, cause I forgot, my baby mamma (YOUR MAMMA!)

Your baby mamma's they come in all shapes and sizes
With little surprises in their bellies
They use it to buy Christelly Chanelle jellies
and ounces of smelly al-greenery, smokin out the whole scenery
My baby mamma, the craziest bra since my wife
At night, she the type to go sleep walkin with a knife
like Jason Nikitcha, tryin to slit ya wrist and the bitch wit'cha
Did ya forget its been three years since I fucked wit'cha (bitch)
Quit fuckin' my high off
Quit showin up at shows askin for dough fuckin my life off
Listen my boss players' haters, let the playboy
smoke-a-lot for nature, lace, modulate ya (hey)
Tie you shoes on these down-home blues
Out of all the woman I choose
Your baby mamma look like boo-bleh
I got some top notches I know you do to
But nine times out of ten your baby mamma look like boo-boo nigga

[Chorus: Yukmouth]
My baby mamma, why y'all be crazy daily
Hit us up with drama, playin with babies
And tryin to break your player partners
Wonder why we blaze weed and daily smokin marijuana?
Your baby mamma, YOUR MAMMA!
Your baby mamma
I know she freak nasty something like a black Madonna
To get me back behind my back
She probably fuck my partner
but you can have her player partner
Yo, cause I forgot, my baby mamma (YOUR MAMMA!)

[Outro: Yukmouth]
Now who got the baby mamma's uh, uh
Now sexy mamma's, mamma's, mamma's
Now who go the baby mamma's dig it
Hey, the classy mamma's, mamma's
Hey, hey, the welfare mamma's, mamma's
Hey, the section eight mamma's, mamma's
Hey, hey, now who got the baby mamma's?
Dig it, uh, done deal

. . .

Is it cool to fuck?
(bitch, whatcha wanna do)
If not just suck
(dick sold for a nickel)

[Verse 1]
Baby tell me is it cool to touch me before we room it up
Do you need the strawberry booms to fuck
cut up the tunes and bump
What up my name is Yukmouth
But that don't mean I eat the pussy hole and butt out
or you could get the fuck out my vehic
Cause, eating your pussy I can't see it
A million other bitches I could be wit
believe it, see it aint allowed in the Lexo
don't talk that way
I'll drop your ass half a block away from the ghetto
with the club via Freak Nasty
Debbie doesn't but drinking niggas bubble up Freak Nasty
pass me that baggy of doe doe
global conversation on the mo mo, dig this

If you would like to blow the endo
lets go Holiday Inn in the ego
open the no smoke out the window
roll back to back when I'm in on my business

Is it cool to fuck?
(bitch, whatcha wanna do)
If not just suck
(dick sold for a nickel)

[Verse 2]
Billy, put your seatbelt on
I aint got no bills
plus once up the ass and the streets full of Tash
(I just shake my ass) that ain't gonna work
But it will for me, let's see, pull up your skirt
Let me feel the monkey, it kinda smells
You fine but you gotta take a shower at the 'tel
lets skate, blaze the hep, crack the Henny, here, hit that
Don't, that's a no, give it back
Damn, you ever met a bitch that need a muzzle
I got some gin in the back you can guzzle
By the way what's your motherfuckin name?
(You forgot already?) Shit, I just cross reference with game
Change your train of thought
I was taught to speak now and ask questions later
Cause bitches quick to catch the vapors

Is it cool to fuck?
(bitch, whatcha wanna do)
If not just suck
(dick sold for a nickel)

Tell me whats up
Is it cool to fuck?
Tell me whats up
Is it cool to fuck?

[Verse 3]
Baby tell me is it cool to fuck
but you already knowin
its 5 o'clock in the mornin
where the fuck you think we going yet bitch
get blunted and beep
how we creep in Vineto 600 this week though

sit your asses
look at mesmorizes eyes that twinkle
bitches astounded by the Chinese and Peroneco
hey you, hit the shower
towels in the back, check it
and when you done bring your ass out here

surround by sounds coming out the walls
my little freak nasty bitch start coming out her drawers
and all and all
she like to eat dick, a can of balls and her jaws
go down the chimney with Santa Clause

Where's my bitch? Three plus one equals four
naked motherfuckers, big orgies on the floor
bitches knees sore, rug burns, broken lamp shades
What a party these tramps made

Is it cool to fuck?
(bitch, whatcha wanna do)
If not just suck
(dick sold for a nickel)

Tell me whats up
Is it cool to fuck?
Tell me whats up
Is it cool to fuck?

Is it cool to fuck?
(bitch, whatcha wanna do)
If not just suck
(dick sold for a nickel)

. . .

(feat. Brownstone)

Can I do my thang??


Speak on it.


Oh, oh, ohhh.
Oh, oh, ohh, hey.

[Verse 1: Yukmouth]

Niggaz be havin the mutha fuckin blues,
like 5-0-5's
I won't lie,
gram will cry,
pray for me that I won't die,
I won't try,
bullets fly,
don't let it slide, do or die,
you an I, slide by,
catch them niggaz off my side,
wit nothin to hide body die rot,
on they porch,
when I expectin some sort of drive-by,
type retaliation,
under styles I lace, MOBBulation,
lets begin breakin down the situation,
when, the end of our frustration,
so while we racin down the block, wit a thirty-eight, an glock,
the cops is waitin to umm,
accelerate on yo vehicle,
run down yo vehicle,
even if they have to gun down yo vehicle,
nigga, up in these high-speedaz,
police they be the Rosco Bico train,
swervin in an outta lanes,
runnin from O-H-A,
what they throw away,
eh, though, eh, way,
every mutha fucka wanna peep.

[Chorus x2: Brownstone & Yukmouth]

Dreams of big millions play.
Ever seen a sad millionaire?
I thought that money make us happy.

[Verse 2: Yukmouth]

What if I was a millionaire,
a major playa on the block,
that a mac daddy, drivin a black Caddy couldn't stop,
hella strap happy,
cuz niggaz slangin all my rocks,
point yo gats at me,
I don't know where uzis to yo knot,
fo fuckin wit the big shot,
I was juss flat droppin g bannos on the ground,
be down,
that's one of my shit, an get shot,
only the baddest bitches jock,
get chosen,
global shouts,
for bitches out there who be voguin,
on the collar of poppa,
brand new hundred dolla billz, an a choppa,
where niggaz strapped fo real, like Chubacca,
who got the gonga,
cuz I be high like phone doctor,
spark on vodka,
eatin lobster, bumpin Frank Sinatra,
Smoke-A-Lot be the MOBBsta, who shot ya,
like Vinny Blanca,
come back in the end juss to haunt ya,
plus I twist a Benz like Big Poppa,
what's the big proper use,
go get yo bread an do what ya gots to be a,
millionaire playa.

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3: Yukmouth]

You niggaz juss created a monsta,
fuck a type, I smoke gonga,
in the Bahammas,
fuckin yo baby mama,
doggystyle (whoo,wee!)
two wow, you wow,
doubt man,
who wow "Bout it, Bout it",
niggaz be claimin they be the Ice Cream Man,
but I doubt it, doubt it,
be rowdy,
hit the paper chasin clout it,
sky up out the ugly four day la-la-by yo Cuttie like a ballot,
smokin blunts, an crunchin weed, sex,
fresh outta drug rehabs,
spend two g's at every function I be at,
believe that, BITCH!!
Ya mind is Smoke-A-Lot,
grab bitches by the throat-a-lot,
that's what ya told the cops,
I hold the glock,
aim it an fire,
retire another nigga,
game is fo hire,
desire chariots fire,
light as I'm a tuck her,
we're so called "potnaz", fuck 'em,
an dust em off wit a choppa, I can't rush 'em,
gotta bust 'em,
too skinny I can't trust 'em,
an when the mutha fuckaz got meal tickets you might have to love 'em,
an that's fo real.

[Chorus x5]

[Yukmouth: talking during chorus]

Have all this fuckin money, an still ain't happy. Nigga, still got
problems wit stress, mutha fuckaz juss think you got it made, they try
to rob you an shit, yo own potnaz in the hood juss wanna love you. Fuck
money, I wish I didn't have it, cuz when I didn't have it it was all
good, niggaz loved me when I was juss drinkin brew an shit at the store.
Now ya got money everybody wanna kill me, nigga, ya own relatives wanna
do you, skanless boy, this is Nine Skrillion, make a million bucks.

. . .

(feat. Madd Maxx, Phats Bossalini, Poppa L.Q.)

Little boys and girls. You thought niggaz was gonna come weak?
Nigga this the Mobb fool. Uh.

I got some killers on the payroll, and they know
when it's time to handle business nigga lay low

[Verse 1: Phats Bossalini]
I fight to struggle
hopin god don't stop my hustle
my fam fight back like wild dogs wit out a muzzle
the shots was multiple
I remember blood puddles
landed in sand wit niggaz fallin in doubles
baby couples
I mean the strong kill the weak
million dolla puzzles
I done placed the last piece
success is sweet
I put it all back together
mass melted chambers
strictly guarded by Barretas
cash means
fo the jewels they get they ass beat
sweat in my sleep
think they found a way to blast me
mutha fuckaz tried to choke me
sliced they throat
look in my eyes now slowly
your oldie
that's for takin it P
now what's left to play soley
that's for fuckin wit me
in the streets it's a respect thang
can't tell the tune
left ya non-Taxin
mostly caine brought up
got sold on my block
most the nights I slept
got awoke by shots
the inner city
I could care less about your pitty
I'm Phats Bossin ready to die come and get me.

[Verse 2: Madd Maxx]
Well you can label me an outlaw when Madd Maxx turn to set it off
grab the 9 millimeter by the pistol grip an let it off
like Dustin Hoff
killin MC's off wit a vengance
blow the microphone up
an leave it smokin when I'm finished
per pound spinach
my niggaz been in it an done, done it
so when you come to smoke wit our records
nigga you know who run it
I gets blunted 168 hours a week
P tried to creep an got burnt from head to feet
but never sleep on the vocabulary skillz
of a nigga that's out to make mills
my nigga Phats Bossalini tells all the block cats
got a hundred hidden in the stash, fast to blast

[Verse 3: Numskull]
If it's one thang this nigga hate
it's niggaz swangin like Chimpaznes
that's why it's no exception
to the shit these niggaz hand me
20 years of struggle
huddles an plans can't amount to millions bubble
that's why we keep stacks tucked and cuddled
no matter my home nigga
my home is where I'm hustlin
wit Killaz On The Payroll
makin up for lost pay loads
the Bay knows
it's hustle-matic til you drop
lookin bold through the cuts
lookin for cops
I kept on runnin for three years
too mutha fuckin long
and had to cope wit everythang that went wrong
I got the Lord in my life
not cuz religion
but the fact was a nigga had dreams an visions
never listened to grown folks
I did my own thang
so mutha fuckin what if it's the wrong thang
it's only one rule I live by
keep some Killaz On The Payroll nigga
an get yo shit right.

[Chorus: Phats Bossalini]
I got some killers on the payroll, and they know
when it's time to handle business nigga lay low

[Verse 4: Poppa L.Q.]
Presentin more urban tales
of crack sales
an black mail
an black males, peelin black males
that's why these California streets is symbolic to Baghdad
it's sad
they did my comrad bad
smoked him wit the mag
now he's walkin wit a cane
and wearin a shit bag
my loc keep me focused got me sportin this rag
wit this tradgey
added to agony
an frustration Farrah Kahn himself couldn't stop me
cuz his only climax
was pay back
he let his wounds heal an got more get back
an low track
posted up wit the family shack
fully strapped
wit a Benjamin big faced stack
only to get attacked
lookin for the sale
he put in his work
he swore on the turf, put his ass hole in the dirt
cuz a million soldier died and served in these circle street wars
before the deaths of Biggie and Tupac Shakur
Is this the effects of being young black an poor?
Do we genetically have what it takes to endure?
had killaz lookin for him from Crenshaw
to 5th Wards
to the O-A-K
6-9 Vill keeps it real
cuz men sharpen men
like steel sharpen steel
we warriors for the skrill
wit a whole lot of will
an I'm never gonna put down my sword an kill
cuz I'm out here in these fields wit the focus of a drill.

Yeah, straight Mobbulation/Affiliation
Run up squared and put down assassination

[Chorus x2]

(Uh, you niggaz ain't knowin)

[Verse 5: Yukmouth]
Uh, uh
Well it's that Vill nigga, that real nigga
that fill niggaz wit hot ones
combined wit L we doubled barreled guns
Motherfuckers best run
fuckin around wit Al-bum, number two so
do not be fuckin around wit we and we won't fuck around wit you
I do hang wit Dru, I do not be fuckin wit busta niggaz like you
Can't trust niggaz in yo crew what to do, I
don't be drinkin no brew, I
do get high til I kiss the sky an straight up run this
juss Hindu, I, do I
go under and under like True Lies
shakin these fleas and shoo-flys
Royalties from Noo-Trybe
got niggaz tryin to twist me like screw drivers
but fuck what you claimin
we ain't Mack 10
hoobangin, hooride
So who die?
Nobody ever knew
cuz true
killaz don't fuck wit niggaz like you
bumpin yo gums bout who got ya feelin the blues
drunk an I say
grabbin yo pumpkin head like "Ooooh"
I been the Ice Cream Man since '92
comin through
in the ice cream truck on triple gold shoes
fuck too Tru's
Vogues give the hoes blues
bitches choose to lose
plus I puff indo, fool how could you refuse
I do not be fuckin wit broke bitches like you
but only if you knew my gang
I'd have you running trains through the crew
I do
but since I got funk wit that No Limit crew
somethin new
niggaz been tryin to step on my shoes
you know who
that nigga got a perm like Dru
burn like two
Remmies when he perform for you
I do
kick it wit real niggaz from Frisco
back to
my niggaz from Get Low the RBL
my nigga cool
Nut 11/5
bump this in yo seven ride
get a show and bring you
about seven die
mutha fuckaz startin to bribe
but niggaz ain't bumpin no 4-TAY
cuz he too busy (bietch) tryin to smoke some more yay, uh
Jose around the Bay I knew
he be funny lookin like G-Money
nigga puffin voos
heard you got married to a crack like
you need to get some Get Right like Mac Mall
cuz it act like you can't rap at all
we havin jobs and swingin on platinum balls
so don't get
flat on your walls
an get snatched up in a U-Haul
cuz you'se a bitch nigga like RuPaul
You all think you gonna make money dissin my crew?
But only if you knew nigga.
You fuckin wit these Mobb niggaz fool, uh


I got some killers on the payroll, and they know
and they know..

. . .

(feat. Poppa L.Q.)

[Chorus: Yukmouth]
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)

Surpress the brown bitch up in the Crown Vic's
Spread her legs and put the greenery lips around it
gets around it while niggas quit (woah!)
This bitch look better than Whitney, lick her titties
Cause niggas say the pussy be the stick-icky
One puff'll turn your brain cells to dust
Head rush, bound to fill your eyes up with the redness
Suck her up, but there's a million bitches just like her
Even dykes try to fuck her in the cypher with the lighter
Puttin' the dick on the ass an', everybody cashin, blackin
Latino motherfuckers know they be mashin
Nigga like whas' happenin'?
You can keep them sassy the dickey used to
Nicky Bone to top to dump the hash in
My partners they be askin' Mr. Y-U-K
Why you stay high off the hash and be smashin'?
With a hundred gun and a hundred click
to the sto', they get phillies
To we get blunted as we wanna get

[Chorus: Yukmouth]
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)

[Poppa L.Q.]
I takes my gat with a phillie I don't need no quote
Now boss player this is how I like to blow my smoke
I grab the phillie cut the throat, jump to the back
of a building, top player, makin' a little bits with a cup up of spit
It makes me sick and upset when it's spit and silly
whenever you phillie, its all spitty and wet
It doesn't matter, rich or po', I couldn't care less bro
It mixes when I'm out and let the motherfucker smoke no hoe
I shake the bud mary-tramps, the one that tried to shove the weed up the fifth
Without givin' up no cocker food stamps
I know they want it, but smokin' for free, I don't condone it
Don't put your crusty lips on it if you ain't got no chips on it
I spent a grip on it, and girl, the cuffs out here
And if you floss out here, you take a loss out here
You're doin' too much catin' in the cypher wit'cha
lighter, tryin' to flick your big, if you ain't got no skits, you can't get hit

[Chorus: Yukmouth]
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)

[The Luniz & Poppa L.Q.]
How many blunts do you blow on the daily
Many money I blow many, many, many
I smoke plenty (well, won't your black ass quit being stingy)
I'm not greedy (well, where's that weed fiend?)
(You better quit smokin' those beadys in my fo' hun)
(Blow one for the po-one)
(Nigga, don't you owe one?) (Act like ya know one)
No one does it better, break it down with my thumbs
(Fuck the zigzags, and stack your lungs, make the runs)
But no fund, no gas money
(Well, even if a dummy has money)
(He'll be a dumber dummy then bin his ass money)
My blunt is my keeper like cash money
Blast money, stash money, the last money was considered
bombs, stick, green grass money
Roll, but next time, I'ma put a little to the side (hash money)

Hey nigga I started smellin' weed and hella weed
then I started sellin' weed
Bitch be tellin' me, they wanna smoke
to catch Mozik than a spellin' bee
Cause I smoke they ass under the table
The hoes stable, pass me that cigarette or phillie

[Poppa L.Q.]
I got that feelin' again, let's smoke that acrylin'
again, I said you willin' again, then we can walk the Poppa-ceiling again
I storms in like a mighty blast of wind
Inhale, exhale, the phillies rule my dome an' (Aaahhh!) [Cough]

(High powered shit, tell that nigga down the road to roll the shit up man)
(Man y'all niggas need to quit this shit)
(Nigga, you used to smoke too, more than me here, hit this shit)
(Man, you already know do')

Fuck around and smoke the sprayed up
Nigga be laid up, walk around like zombies, minds never made up
Smellin' like ass hemp's and grine, cocky mouth
chap lips, fuckin' off all the poo-nanny
If y'all gonna smoke I'll be the designated weed roller
Call me Numboy, the motherfuckin' seed roller
But you gotta crack the window though
Cause me and the lads like Whoopi Goldberg in centerfolds
Drink-a-lot never like to think-a-lot
Nigga I don't smoke no more cause I don't like the stank-a-lot

Nigga I'm drink-a-lot, smoke-a-lot too nigga
Fuck, how you gonna say that shit nigga if you be smokin' cigarettes (fuck y'all)
And me nigga, (I wanna get blunted my brother)
You know phillies, they give heart attack catch a nigga
fuck you nigga, shitty ass niggas (fuck you nigga)
Smell like straight dookie [echoes]
[Laughter till fade]

. . .

(feat. Swoop G, 3X Krazy, & Cydal)

Uh, uh, uh. Still ain't ready yet.
Uh, uh, uh. Niggaz still ain't ready yet.
Uh, uh, uh.

[Verse 1: Swoop G]

I hits the corner on three Daytonaz
wit a bad ass bitch brought up in Gardena, California
Uh, she started tuggin, an rubbin on the Swoop
I'm wastin my drink swervin in my rag 6-duce
uh, you didn't know I keep it real from head to toe
I hit that savings and loans when I was just a baby loc
went to Mexico, traded it for the pecos
came back to California now it's time to roll
I was 16 mane, sellin quarter keys of dank
my uncle was a balla from around the way
so I had the hook up
whole keys I cooked up
now all my niggaz, makin major figgaz.

[Verse 2: Yukmouth]

Mobb shit, the type of shit you out committin a lick
pistol whip them nigga to death and have a kick
and the twist cuz niggaz be havin shit
like bitches on Set It Off, dank
niggaz be sniffin dark bank
mission accomplished boss crack
hard or soft livin boys and girls packin yo shit
let it off
niggaz who floss out here be takin a loss
it cost to be the mutha fuckin Boss Playa
talks to throw away gats in the air
for makin yo scratch like that there Boss Playa
niggaz beware
the ganga-gangsta type of Luni hoolum atmosphere
fo rappin about the clothes you wear, I represent welfare
no happy-happy, joy-joy
it's these boys,
runnin from decoys, pimpin mo bitches than Dr. Detroit
it goes down
Mr. Smoke-A-Lot turnin pounds into ashes
black ski maskes
niggaz be gettin the pumpkin head like Cashus Clay
the Yay
Area smoke greenery malacious all day
eh, eh blaze.

[Verse 3: Keek The Sneek]

Back in the days, when I was raised
niggaz got sprayed wit A's and K's
I prayed to my Lord that head won't take
me over, we soldiers to fold ya like Motorola's
and hit the corners
I told ya the 4-4 flow will fuck yo face and leave you frozen
bitch you was chosen,
that's how it's goin the Mobb fa sho-ness
mo killaz and shady niggaz to keep the click-ulation flawless
fuck all that other
bury yo brother
leave yo family mad at the fact the Mobb took me under.

[Verse 4: Bart]

Bash 'em other sucka, likely struck wit G's
for tryin to brace,
cough drops laced and you'll be laid out stunned by zae's
place the cover in a maced
ATF lookin for this arsonist, lettin off conscience
hot traces, suicide so you really can't fuck this
bringin mo heat than Rapper Bernard
lookin, micro woof tickets, bout how much to kick it that nigga hard
oh, from a sucka
fo them niggaz that press they luck there
in a game fucka
paralyzed caught one in the ass, punk ass
couped up in an send 'em, an jive
make niggaz remember the Mobb
them other niggaz ain't no kiddin 'em
an it best be a bounce off Mista, Mista
hit ya, get ya, split ya
that's how we shit ya.

[Verse 5: Cydal]

Parafanalia to some Mobb members unpredicable
niggaz get dropped, we call the shots, smashed on sumpthin pitifull
they see us comin they clear the block, our faces unforgetable
the world is a ghetto, and life is a plot
I'm surrounded by nimphos
givin up info
on where you hide yo doe an indo
guess what you in for
you bout to find out
that shit we in, we all contenders
you don't know, you seen a nigga jumpin through yo window
don't even trip
I confiscate this money in the name of the Mobb
it's on yo bitch
we'll juss pistol whip this nigga to a coma
jump in the get away ride and hit the corner
yo bitch juss got mopped (the Mobb is gonna)
yo bitch juss got mopped (the Mobb is gonna)

[Verse 6: Ager Man]

Get ready to get yo gats out niggaz
fo all you wacked out niggaz
bitch made batched out niggaz
jaw jacked out niggaz
I'm not gonna to patch out niggaz
these niggaz don't really give a funk about yo snitch ass
never in yo life met a gat that blast on the streets at a lame ass
bitch ass nigga
no cash gettin-er
hustlin pretendin to be a gangsta
switch hittin ass, nigga too late
he wanted his boy to get dumped in wit a 4 chrome that nigga ain't
dumpin on nothin
must be runnin, and duckin and dodgin in buckets
then shittin up in yo mutha fuckin drawls
these bitches I put 'em on the Mobb we gotta get gone
before a nigga cool his gun
real nigga runnin from Mobb
will throw away glock
won't pistol go drop
never go Mobb
when the 4-4 stop
will a nigga get mopped
fo restin my knot
tell 'em to get yo grill knocked out
you fuckin wit niggaz that'll have ya noddin like ya hopped out
3 Time for the O-A-Kiz-a
we folks all day
Ager, Sneek an the B.A.
put him in the trunk wit a bump, an we Mobb throught the Bay

[Verse 7: Swoop G]

Don't get it twisted we got restrictions
niggaz that witnessed family beatins
from family meetins
no family grievins
juss some youngstas
grew up around dirt an dope, an jelous
evil tactics
to shovel up caskets, and double barrell
shotty blasted
I'm knowin these suckas can't catch these bodies flowin
murders so ancient, they faces got federal cases closed
and cross the game it ain't the thang
Swoop G plus two G's will make them niggaz for you to hang
an try to be cool when Mobbin on them niggaz as we reign
it's Money Ova Bitches, broke the skrilla fuck the fame
sight of soldiers shock the world like Rodney's girl
and we ain't discussin shit
we bustin clips,
to makin 'em hurl
bullets makin them bustas curl
an I put that on the Mobb nigga
we Mobb niggaz
includin everywhere we go
that's how we do it.

[Verse 8: Numskull]

When you see Num, you see Mobb
how happly if you need job
even if you be Slobb you need not worry cuz we Mobb
Slobb don't mean Blood
an Cuzz don't mean Crip
an Oakland is a term for broke bitches makin grip
when we sip
we laid out, to drip-drip dry
we be slip-slip ride
through the Town doin high-bys
when the yak hit my face it's like a hamburger kill
we'll be real
what's the deal
uh, uh, searchin fo skrill, up here!
Wit these tires burnin off like lavishly
makes it easier for me to dig out these hoes like cavities
havin these thang is like a
Government task
M.O.B. not searchin fo aliens we won't ask. [echos out]

. . .

Thugs die, why me?

[Verse 1]

All eyes on me, so that means all eyes against me
simply cuz I may do in this world what God sent me
if I said that I was gonna die,
would I be tellin' the truth would I be lyin'
would I be chillin' in heaven or hell fryin'
do thugs go to heaven even though we bettin' big
loot, makin green an lovin' hootchie prostitutes
jewels an big high rollin to the big part
of two main thugs who got plugged with slugs but had so much love
until tha paraphernalia, you can't floss or make mill
one fellow dies in his click then it's all hell
Big Poppa took hot ones 2Pacalypse took hot ones
now, between east and west there's problems
it's true cuz who knows when you gonna die, who
knows when and where, who knows tha reason why
who goes and who stays who pause in these days
who paves the roads ways
who makes bread and who plays
not rollin' not doin' what you love (uh-uh) an when I die
I wanna die in this business as a thug
so I ask you, why?


Why do thugs die, makes you wanna cry
Why do thugs die, cuz it's insane
Why do thugs die, makes you wanna cry
Why do thugs die, cuz it's insane

[Verse 2]

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh, uh,
Sometimes I wanna pray, sometimes I wanna say somethin'
to God cuz only God can solve the problems of today
get on my knees and pray, I cry and say
if I die today please take my soul away
make a brighter day for Lil ???, that be my son
so many people with money fall victim of the gun
for tryin' ta rock your rhymes like ??? caught two in the lungs
wanted to get me, dear lord forgive me, I didn't
wanna die this quickly
God the most expert hitman on earth to get me
had plans to have tha inner city killin' each other
first Pac now Biggie, what really goes on
lets hold on, like En Vogue, cuz when them devils want you gone
you gone, tombstones and funeral
homes keep yo game strong
my little homie got his brains blown (POW!)
ready to get yo whobang on, C an Rappin' Ron I miss ya
dudes, how many brothers must we lose
before we hit tha ballers fued
it's only hurtin' me and you
cuz they tryin' to shut down our music that we use
dont be confused, these ??? folks to us
control the industry, got us programmed like New York is the enemy
man look what they did to Kennedy
why, why, why me, why me, why do thugs die playa


[Verse 3]

1, 2, 3 years of struggle, huddles and plans
can't amount to millions bubble
that's why we keep stacks tucked and cuddled
I praise any human makin' loot by the truck loads
my motto stay clean like pimps in El Dorado
or any real playa makin' ripples in the pond,
got hustles for days, kinda makes me think of mine
and by the time I'm 30 I wanna own them things
in your ear (what) bubble for 20
years if the world is still here

Uh-huh, huh, playboy, it seems like everybody with bread
get indicted by the feds
and family members end up dead, REDRUM
I used to read psalms and go to church to be an usher
then of course the terms they got worser
everyday is a different murder, so many
funerals and waits, pour out liquor smoke blunts
in the face when thugs die, you can't stop cryin
cuz I lost my momma then my father in `95, I ask the lord why
why thugs die, why do thugs die
it's like that there playboys
watch your back cuz it's goin' down man
This goin' out to all the fallen soldiers
who died in the line of duty, you know what I'm sayin
my playboy Tupac, rest in peace
my playboy, Biggie Smalls, one love rest in peace
to all the other soldiers, everybody who lost somebody
you know (world wide)
reminisce, lets do this, pour out some liquor
smoke some blunts with your folks
they lookin' down on us proud
there is a heaven for a G playboy, that's real
believe me, done deal, done deal, done deal, done deal, uh

[Till end]

. . .

(feat. Redman)

Aiyyo, dot dot dot who is it the prime wizard
Erykah Badu-izm smoker, vocal chord woof choker
Now who block is this? (Yo yo yo no no chill chill
nah nah hold up homie) We takin over!
Gimme your girl, gimme your keys, to your four do' Explorer
Yo Lu-Nile, crack their composure
(We decompose your crowd) We layin down tighter than plaques
When I blast I wild like them two bitches from Baps

Yo, the Hong Kong Fooey, human tornado like Rudy
Turning your bomb-ba-zee into doobies
Platinum overseas like the Fugees, Japanese
Germany groupies, mooshi mooshi, sniffin lines
off each other's booty love the Luniz
I went from smokin dubs to QP's
Make hits for thugs that bankin hoopies
and aimin uzis, at who dirty mackin my loochie
Come clost cock the toast and make you see Ghost-s like Whoopi

Have you ever seen a nigga get snatched up by his drawers
And wonder the cause, cuz big dope had his balls
Got small methamphetimes with colors to be Cray-ola
Took the drunkest O-A, and let the X take shit over
No need to get juiced cause it's the anti-depressant
Smile now but trip later, and put your hand out for the present
Lay down for fifteen, so your body can feel rest
Kick your feet up, and start makin beats on your chest and think

[Chorus: Redman and Luniz]

Sex, money, drugs, music
Lies, these are the things that keep niggaz...
"I was hyp-no-tized!" "I'd like to break it down down"
"Cold turn the party out" "I'd like to, I'd like to break it down down"
"Cold turn the party out"

Ahh ahh, I smoke Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Satur-dayyyyyyah!
Two lay ya blunt, players with cream
If I die my spirit will jump inside machines
Runnin niggaz over like Christine (sorry)
I mix the green with the last piece of hashish, ass-burning
hoes in my black mink, your baby momma lovin my backseat
Freak nasty got me slappin the ass cheeks of Blackstreet

So high, I'm so high I feel like I'm wearin a disguise
Superman type of, with Kryptonite eyes
Not knowin I'm trippin, I walks out to my vehic'
Buckle up for safety on my way to get some cheap shit
I'm out the parkin lot, sideways on two wheels
Vision is double, trouble to me is bein real
Listen to my big block bill cause in the town that's a earful
Shares and mo' shares, swang if it's good

Now how I get dollars, I be the rap artist blue collar
School scholars on knowledge to move dollars
I do gotta motion chirp, like Impalas
for niggaz who rock Timbs, Gortex, or new Walla's
You're facin, the Cochise of operation
And if you ain't tastin you should steady observations
Doctor/patient, leavin mics with laceratons
Love to stay bent with my doggs rollin adjacent (woof!)
And when they bark they turn your sunny days to dark
You play the back like Rosa Parks when the arc sparks
I bang rawly, do you orally
My horny sounds will pound more heavy than E-40

[Chorus 1/2]

I'm gettin money y'all, I'm gettin money nigga
Bend your back like Long Isle Iced Teas with five liquors
Knew about the cheddar since I took my child picture
sDial 900-Do-Away-With-All-Snitches
Stop complaining, the game is for entertainment
What is it when niggaz heads gettin covered with blankets?
It's just a one-eight-seven on your motherfuckin crew
I'll have your brains doin donuts like you in a rental
Flip fools with credentials, nasty like havin sex with kinfolk
Blaze high, then smoke

Drunk-a-Lot, stays on top, that's why we roll
two and two, four deep makes a crew
Red Yuk and Num with the sidekick Hennesey
Fuzzy, wuzza, fuzzy, little friend of me
Hitters on the payroll, secure because we practice
Pure ass-kick cures for who's acting drastic
Drank and buddha blast, callin shots on Motorolas
One step shy, so I'ma drank until it's over

Kick this for the fake Versace wearin fake Donna Karan Mossino
Players we know, ain't no gambino
Peons be watchin too much Casino, wannabe Nino Brown with the uzi
But clown you more like Downtown Judy
Niggaz can't fool me, I love the way you ball outta control
in your rhyme, then see you in person without a dime
But I'm global, with Reggie Noble man blazin
Dive in a crowd like Method Man and Van Halen

[Chorus: repeat to fade]

. . .

[Chorus: The Luniz]
Handcuff your hoes, the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcu-u-u-ff your hoes

This rap here goes to all you player haters
Hand cuff your hoes, that goes to all you Captain Save-Hers
Me, my major industries gold teeth and diamonds
Been grindin' for nine and half years now I'm rhymin'
Reclinin' meal tickets couldn't be lookin' me in the eye
I'm sigh now, clown that ass like Saturday Night Live (WHHHYYYY!)
Because I'm all between they wife's thighs
But all jokes aside I yoke the ride and roll the weed up at the same time
While I drive I cross my heart and hope to die
Hella high, it's the mobb blowin' greenery till we die
So haters do me a favor, handcuff your briide
I creep through when your husband's at the job
Many hunners got players, baby mammas feedin' me all kinds
of hibachi shrimp and I don't even rock Versacci pimpin dudes
But when I'm through, you never knew I touched her
Got her screamin loud as hell like Chris Tucker (aaaaah!)
Handcuff your hoes

[The Luniz]
When I step in the house (niggas snatch they hoes up quickly)
Niggas start breakin' out (cause they all wanna get with me)
Cause they know they hoes ain't faithful (and my eyes is on them all)
And I'll snatch them if I'm able (hey, put this lighter on the balls)
Olly-olly-oxenfree, don't hesitate to give your hoes to me

Uh, I'm used to stabbin' top notch and border coochies
Just big booty, firm casabas, preferably groupies (WITH BIG THIIIGHS!)
Makin' em ride they self up the wall easy
Off the expecting them, feel breezy
Do me a favor, take your hoes (HOME)
Before you find your breezy (GONE)
It'll be for life, only players when I'm beerin' at
I want the better things in life
Nice, he ain't hearin' that
I ain't the nigga to be buyin' bitches clothes
they know that and still keep
So handcuff your hoes (handcuff your hoes)

[Chorus: The Luniz]
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcu-u-u-ff your hoes (your hoes)

Hey Mrs. Big Butt (why you always cry?)
She fight all the time (Oh my, my, my)
He's been cheatin' on you, but don't worry, please dry your eyes
Just take a ride with smoke-a-lot, the master of high
(HOW HIIGGH!), high enough to kiss the sky, on the real
I wonder why beautiful girls date fat guys
He must got his cape on tight, oh look up in the sky
(WHHHYYY!), now that's a Captain Save-Her fo' sure
Me being like that no, no, no, no, no
I know some hoes don't want to be a dumb-dummy
but don't play around and disrespect my money
Like a gun I'll take you away
And if you niggas act a fool, I'll spray you with the AK
Just let me take the hoe (and go peacefully)
Let me skip into the sunset (like tweed-de-lee-de-lee)
I like to come and so do you
If you can take one nut then you can take two
And it's true, we likes to party (TO PARTY!)
We likes to party

[Chorus: The Luniz]
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcu-u-u-ff your hoes (your hoes)
Handcuff your hoes, the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcuff your hoes, if the girl is yours
Handcu-u-u-ff your hoes (your hoes), I'm breezy

. . .

(feat. 2 Live Crew & Christion)

[Numskull talking]

Like they always say, what's good fo Num, is always good fo Yuk. Let's
get high.


20 blunts, a day,
Hin, an ala-zae.
20 blunts, a day,
Hin, an ala-zae.

[Christion, Numskull, Yukmouth]

One,[echos],(Drink-A-Lot.... all day)
Five,[echos],(Smoke-A-Lot.... all day)

[Verse 1: Numskull]

You know what I came to do,
came to drink wit a gold face same as you,
drop a fifty on the bar,
for a fifth of Hindu,
got freaks wit me gotta get gin too,
I know hoes think the same as me,
cuz they came to the club lookin like freak nasty,
pullin niggaz on the floor,
dance nasty as you wanna,
lap dance in the corner,
same ol shit,
same ol hits,
same ol click,
same ol dick,
bitch don't look in my eyes,
cuz I ain't payin,
ya shoulda known pimpy-doo niggaz ain't playin,
juss pull down yo drawls so a nigga can see,
cuz I doubt that the pussy is fuckin wit me,
pop a coochie to the back,
pop a coochie to the front,
but damn, open yo thighs pick up my nigga BLUNT,
what ya really want,
what ya really need,
pop the breaks on that shit an lets get keyed,
girl I always pictured you in neon lights,
big 44 double D's,
what a sight,
you an me both we can get respect,
two triple shots of hin an we'll be on deck,
you my type,
you ol hoe,
you my type,
you know.

[Chorus: Christion]

Hin, an ala-zae, I'm feelin like I wanna hurl.
Hin, an ala-zae, I think I'm gonna leave this world.
Hin, an ala-zae, I been drink-a-lot all day,
Hin, an ala-zae, that's why I'm lookin this way.
Hin, an ala-zae, I think I need a lil mo.
Hin, an ala-zae, send yo mama to the store.
Hin, an ala-zae, I can't keep my vision straight.
Hin, an ala-zae.

[Verse 2: Yukmouth]


Smoke-A-Lot, Smoke-A-Lot,
why you smoke??
20 blunts a day, you don't choke,
why bitches doggystyle, nut down yo throat,
get up while my dick on yo coat,
an I'm bumpin Too $hort,
down the block,
three on fourth,
my nigga Num drunk on the porch off a mutha fuckin quart of O.E.,
nickle an dime ass nigga,
to a top hat balla,
big rigga like E-Fourtee,
niggaz know me,
Smoke-A-Lot only smoke weed, blow trees,
whole keys,
see me in a E-3 dub,
rollin sweet up, everytime you see Yuk,
peep us,
only bad bitches beep us,
turn yo main squeaze into a cheata,
smokin reefa,
took off my DK's,
an she fucked us up wit the whole sneaka,
an her pussy,
lift yo ass cheeks up so I could see,
mix the hashes up wit the back yard boogie,
bust nuts on yo Donna Carra hoodie if it's all goodie,
an be a,
ride a Benz wit my knees what??
breakin trees up,
rollin weed up,
on my way to the V-up,
to put the g's up,
see Yuk,
hella high, tinky eyed like Korea.


20 blunts a day, I been gettin high all day.
20 blunts a day, an the blunts get bigger.
20 blunts a day, excuse me if my eyes are glazed.
20 blunts a day, that's why I'm lookin this way.
20 blunts a day, eenie-meenie, minie-mo,
20 blunts a day, sticky, sticky indo,
20 blunts a day, step aside an let me blaze
20 blunts a day.

[2 live Crew]

[Verse 3: Black Marquis]

Do it on the way to San Jose,
20 blunts a day from the dock of the Bay,
niggaz I'm scratch,
but they call it Killa Kali,
I'm walkin through the spot in my crocodile ballies,
20 bag please,
20 Deep East,
I finna smoke a stanky an get high as a tree,
wit my dime piece mommie,
queen bees keeper,
when the bitch shake her ass,
nigga you should see her,
wit a taped on braclet,
diamond laced watches,
Mosskimo jeans,
wit her condoms in the pocket,
the bitch is real bad in a drop-top Jag,
sittin on chrome shelf on paper tag,
slidin off g-string off in a coach bag,
dolla sign eyes, an a stash full of hash.

[Verse 4: Young Smooth Ice]

Back to the side where niggaz blaze,
home of the crew, an the booty shake,
straight packed club where the hoes be poppin,
dick all hard, tryin to shake a lil sumpthin,
lookin fo the one that'll do me right,
who keep me cummin all through the night,
ain't no pitty if you fall to your knees,
fuck me,
suck me,
but nigga please,
let a nigga hit it,
bitch I know you wit,
from the back, cuz my dicks all in it,
I stick it in, like it ain't no thang,
dick stay hard,
OD'd on Ginseng,
come an be my private dancer,
a playa like me is yo only answer,
holla at yo boy if you wanna play,
I got hoes from Miami, up to the Bay. [echos]


. . .

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