| Nigga, come off. |
| Check this out. |
| Check this out
|
| Listen all this shit y’all talking ain’t got no frills
|
| We’ll pass the 40 around and we’ll see who’s got some skills, I mean
|
| If you got 'em you got 'em and if you don’t
|
| (I got skins. I got skins.)
|
| …you're over. |
| So Mista Lawnge, listen, I give this brew to you
|
| I’m gonna pour some out for my man pee-wee. |
| (Pee-Wee!)
|
| And do what you gotta do, all right black. |
| Bust it
|
| I’m the sugar dick daddy
|
| Fuck what you think
|
| Pass the 40 right by me
|
| Cause you know I don’t drink
|
| I remain sober when I drop a hit
|
| But I put gum in my ass cause I like to pop shit
|
| When it comes to pullin' gums I might do it
|
| But put your guard up Black
|
| And Ima run right through it
|
| Don’t sleep on the size
|
| Thinkin' I’m easy to beat
|
| Cause I’ll be up in that ass like a bike seat
|
| And when it comes to boning I’m Mr. Erecticy
|
| Hoes come by the crib for a free hysterectomy
|
| I’ve got a dick that I brag about
|
| I put it in fast then I drag it out
|
| Girls, I’ll be the special friend see
|
| Cause your man suffers from pseudo-penis envy
|
| I do damage (oh, uhm)
|
| The Sugar Dick is guaranteed to make you cum
|
| Now I pass the 40 cause you heard from me
|
| So, go get a forklift Chi-Ali
|
| Well I’m too young for 40s, and too young for blunts
|
| The only thing I’m not too young for is the stunts
|
| The girlies, the ladies, I love them with a passion
|
| But back to the mic cause I’m always down for action
|
| Many M.C.'s fall to the dust
|
| Some will rust cause I bust and I crush
|
| You can’t touch
|
| I’m the child of the wild, the flavor of the Nile
|
| I gave you plenty of chances, still ya fuck with this style
|
| Now that you know, Chi-Ali can’t be tooken
|
| Pass the 40 cause my mother’s not looking
|
| Yo give me that, kid. |
| You pah will put you in the mourge
|
| Listen to hot diggity dog
|
| Bibb bow wow wow wow wow
|
| Yipity yie yo, yipity yo yie yeah
|
| Diggity dog is rocking and
|
| Yes, I’m definitely here to stay
|
| Pass me 40. Pass me 40, pass it if you may
|
| Because my jimmy is hard and yes I have a ho to slay
|
| And when I’m funking the bitches they go huhhhhhh
|
| When I’m funkin' the bitches they go huhhhhhh
|
| Y’all drink the 40, I drink a Guinness Stout
|
| And when I see you home, I’m out
|
| Yo Baby Chris, pass me the keys to the car
|
| I’m runnin late for my menage-a-trois
|
| Pass it, tap it, and then crack it
|
| Take a small swig
|
| Or down it like a pig
|
| You’re too tippy to operate this rig
|
| I’m a mike, You suckers I strike in flight
|
| Here’s a DWI for drivin' drunk with the mic
|
| From Chi to Lawnge and all those in this fight
|
| Loosen your grip 'cause you’re holding it too tight
|
| It’ll take a body count, I know my body count is right
|
| Five drunk niggas from my left to my right
|
| And maybe a ho that I’m with tonight
|
| But it’s all right, yo! |
| It’s all right
|
| So Dave my grip is getting weak
|
| Grab the 40 so I can hear you speak
|
| I live large, caviar and limos
|
| Spent most of my time refusing bullshit demos
|
| Can you understand, do you understand
|
| Well let me explain I’m the A and R man
|
| Dave Gossett. |
| Yes I rock it
|
| I rip the mike and I stuff pockets
|
| Don’t believe me? |
| Ask the Sheep, see
|
| They got the money, think it’s funny
|
| Always scooping all the honey
|
| Oops, I meant to say hoes
|
| Broke my own rhyme
|
| What’cha didn’t know, ut oh
|
| I see a stroblelite ho, I gotta go, I gotta go
|
| Yo Dres, it’s your turn
|
| Act like gonorrhea and burn baby burn
|
| Step into the booth
|
| And give em proof
|
| That Black Sheep don’t need jack to get loose
|
| And rip a roof, loosen a tooth
|
| You’re in my fuckin way so move
|
| And let a nigga get smooth
|
| Honies play me close cause my goods are on display
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| So, I play em like vitamins and take a ho a day
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| I pull em like a dentist
|
| MoId em like a teacher
|
| Knock em like a bowler
|
| Fleece em like a preacher
|
| Step, get 'em man, go to school, join a band
|
| It makes no difference whether
|
| Dres is that type of brother
|
| That will hit that ass forever
|
| Cause I’m clever, ever
|
| Never ever, have I lost my sight
|
| Or said might or went a boneless night
|
| Not talkin bout chicken
|
| But if she’s finger-lickin'
|
| I will let it be known
|
| Don’t bite the bone
|
| Microphones I like em cause they let me amplify
|
| So don’t reach for the sky, you know you can’t fly
|
| But still you reach up higher, a Black Sheep-type desire
|
| Then you look up at me cause I’m a frequent flyer
|
| So now you got beef chief
|
| Grief will be your claim
|
| I sport a full metal jacket
|
| Give your beef some lo mein
|
| Cause I’m swingin like a swinger
|
| Singing like a singer
|
| I’m lookin for your
|
| Or your ho so did you bring her
|
| Ah I’m just bullshittin
|
| Almost time for quittin
|
| There’s money to be made
|
| And booty to be hittin
|
| Look and you will see
|
| Dres that’s who I be
|
| A divine incline of mine is studio time |