Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Holla What's Up (feat. Baby Bash, Frost & Jay Tee of N2Deep), artist - Baby Bash. Date of issue: 03.05.2004
Song language: English
Holla What's Up (feat. Baby Bash, Frost & Jay Tee of N2Deep) |
| Yeah |
| Check it out |
| Ha-ha-ha |
| N2Deep |
| Latino Velvet cliqua |
| Frost |
| From the Bay to L. A |
| From the Northpole all the way to the muthafuckin Southpole |
| This is how we roll |
| Oh-oh, I’m back in this bitch, baby |
| With a new steelo and a brand new ride |
| No matter where you from, throw it up, represent yo side |
| Peep out the dum-didi, it’s me and Boskolini |
| Rollin down the street with them nickel-plated chrome nini |
| About to hook up with my partners from the Lleyo |
| Sit down at the table, figure ways to stack the mail |
| Just another classic tale of a man and his money |
| Cause you gotta have a con in this land of milk and honey |
| Well, I don’t know about y’all, but mayn, I knows about moi |
| I keep a deep repertoire and keep some dank in my jar |
| The coldest Latin to ball, the mack handles the law |
| I spend a g at the mall and give your breezy a call |
| And mayn I calls it how I see em from my hustler mausoleum |
| From the West coast to the East coast, from the AM to the PM |
| What’s really. |
| laced up from the waist up, never see me goin bancrupt |
| Wake up and break up a bud so I can blaze up |
| That’s just the way we get down, we serve it up by the pound |
| We stack g’s and we clown and if you see us around |
| Say what’s up, partner, I’ma give you some dap |
| Because we puttin this West coast back on the map |
| Now please believe it when I tell ya, uncut coke is what I sell ya |
| Even if ya out of town that good game should never fail ya |
| Call me yankee, bread stackin, boss mackin |
| Got a superbad up in the Cadillac and |
| You know I pop that con hella quick to her |
| You know before I’m gone I sold that dick to her |
| I like ya just like I liked my last bitch |
| Jay Tee is who I’m doin business as, biatch |
| Slippin ??? |
| hypnosis pull Testarossas out your nana |
| Piranha, ferocious, put the chains on her |
| For green guys the mean thighs and d-size |
| I need my batter till my bread start to rise |
| Tellin true lies and extort for sport |
| Got contempt for court, 'biatch' - Too $hort |
| Pimp with force like Vader and never paid her a nickel |
| Mouthpiece that have you fuckin for pickles |
| Pure bread, posted with a bottle and some bomb head |
| Smoked a broad out and turned the broad out |
| Pimpin ain’t dead, the broads is just scared |
| Beat your heels on the track, increase the sack |
| Be a trendbroker, from the womb, fuck the smokers |
| The tender chose up and the bread rose up |
| I was born to rap, secondary to this shit |
| If the music don’t work, I retire, then pimp |
| Big work, strip club dancin escort |
| You was perked off the E, dowsed in Hennessy |
| Fuck your simp tendencies, we bring street remedies |
| D boys and pimps took flight with Vegas strips |
| Burned vogues on the turf, screech and peel off |
| Check my trap money, get scratch and roll off |
| Be a boss, get the fetti at all cost |
| Recognize the game, get scrill and then floss |