Lyrics

What's up motherfuckers I'm talkin major shit motherfuckin day, you feel I'm coming strait from the Oakland streets I got let u niggaz know when the end meets So here we go come and take a ride with me In the streets of the motherfuckin fifties First of all let me take you for a five-minute ride Come back for, one nigga just died And I don't even trip of for shit That it takes for a motherfuckin lick Be strong, stand tall, a hold your grounds up, be a mack like Dru Down A nigga who stands on his tiptoes And I love short hair fine hoes Nappy hairs don't remind me Cause I'm blind just like Run DMC C and H don't you like this shit a funky rap to another funky hit Niggaz wanna know about me The capitalized serial killa a double D Well nigga back up take fifty feet Unless you want your teeth layin on the concrete Cause am not playin no games Never did never will now what's up mayn You wan test some skills Well let's test your skills on the real Uh, nigga you ain't shit A punk kissing ass and lickin on some dick And I knew by the way you move You were switching the hips and perking them lips You was a fagot ass bitch But don't trip cause a nigga like me just talkin shit You feel that I'm talkin major shit bitch Ha one two one two here I go with the flow Now what you got say about me talkin shit I aint never been to legit to quit Cause a nigga like me is on the go Always being real true to the hoe Never turn to the white man just a black man To some brothers now you understand Cause a nigga aint trippin no more of the white folks I just got to get my money on And this is out for you ballas Shit, popo stay off the dick Cause you motherfuckers keep on jackin I'm gonna get feed up, something gonna happen I may run and get tha AK take nine I dammed near forget to creep to the 4 five But a nigga aint loose I get juice when it comes to me wearing toe boots In case I got to throw AK to the shit And then I get crossed to check I don't play no I don't fuck around 21 years in the Eastside Oak town I bet you couldn't hang like I did Being a mack pimp player at age ten But science I was young and talk a little bit I listend up and when I spoke I talked major shit A well a brother like me feel bionic Every time I'm puffin on a joint of the cronic Yeah, I wear five nine dickies I'm sayin fuck 8 ball I drink Mickies So peep this here I go I say whats up to my folks from the five O mail row And back cross two I aint forgot about my partners form the five 2, foo And we can keep it on the strive I throw a peace sign, for six five and six nine And I'm gona keep it on a go I wants some bounce lets go to seven nine eight O And yeah am talkin big shit Roll up the window come with me to the land and hit nine six And ride, and say whats up to my folks But for me to say names that's brother off And so we steady getting high buffin Marvin Gaywe And science we ridin throgh the streets hit nine eight End even I'm down the street around the block I can't forget about my folks from Plymouth Rock Well I'm finished I'm quit through talkin shit, Don't forget Dru Down keeps guns and clips and clips and clips
Writer(s): Brandt Jones, Anthony Banks, Todd Anthony Shaw Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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