| I’m hard and I’m flossy and I’m all that
|
| You talk a lot of shit, where yo' bodyguard at?
|
| I got a pocket full of money, where the mall at?
|
| Where the quads at, where the drinks, where the broads at?
|
| (Shoot back)
|
| Niggas fightin' over bitches need to squash that
|
| You shouldn’t be disgruntled cause you didn’t learn to posh that
|
| It’s black pussy and I’m still tryin' to wash that
|
| Rinse it up, lip to butt, right between the center gut
|
| (Shoot back)
|
| Sit in my lap, and look at my snaps
|
| Drop a twenty and watch these troublemakers fightin' for scraps
|
| My drawers so clean, my nuts are so powdered
|
| Don’t stress me out, just eat your clam chowder
|
| Tryin' to stick my honeybee into yo' flower
|
| If you like this record then make the shit louder
|
| (Shoot back)
|
| It’s so terrific out on the Pacific
|
| Green plants and dancin' make you feel lifted
|
| I’m DJ Quik and I’m so fuckin' gifted
|
| That you didn’t even feel when the momentum shifted
|
| (Shoot back)
|
| I turned the pocket around
|
| And slowed it all the way down, I’m a musical cop now
|
| Get down on the ground, spread your legs, put your hands behind your back
|
| Get up and walk backwards towards me
|
| You under arrest for them big-ass breasts
|
| And that ass made me think you had a strap, pick your ass up
|
| Get down on your face, spread 'em wide, where your ID?
|
| Why you tryin to lie to me? |
| you’ve got the right to remain
|
| Either you can ride the big-ass bus
|
| Go to jail or go home with us, I need backup
|
| Excuse me miss, I’m pullin' you over
|
| Cause your ass is extremely too fat
|
| You need backup Quik? |
| I’m the right nigga to get
|
| My picks are thick stallion, I’m slangin' the dick
|
| Still bangin' the bricks, with the 'caine and the six
|
| Remain in the mix, because I’m famous and shit
|
| (Shoot back)
|
| Let the guest in, doors open, my entourage walked in
|
| Let’s get some whore scopin' I’m open for more pokin'
|
| On my wrist is fifty tokens, buy that chump
|
| Sold a show out for a mill', try that chump
|
| I’m on the boat still listenin' to, «Way 2 Fonky»
|
| Park that ass right hurr chick and make that monkey
|
| Talk for me, when ya walk I see
|
| A clear speech come and get it I got some for each
|
| Now I’m bumpin' on the radio and put it on repeat
|
| Play it loud in the streets, go out and get yourself a freak
|
| The moral of the story is we ho-hoppin police
|
| Know your rights, put these cuffs on, you locked in these sheets
|
| Get down on the ground, spread your legs, put your hands behind your back
|
| Get up and walk backwards towards me
|
| You under arrest for them big-ass breasts
|
| And that ass made me think you had a strap, pick your ass up
|
| Get down on your face, spread 'em wide, where your ID?
|
| Why you tryin to lie to me? |
| you’ve got the right to remain
|
| Either you can ride the big-ass bus
|
| Go to jail or go home with us, I need backup
|
| Excess cologne, women be attracted
|
| Got the best sex c’mon, it’s somethin' 'bout the action
|
| When they flex wet and bone, a model or a actress
|
| I attach this note, before the script get wrote
|
| (Shoot back)
|
| She see the list, text you’re gone
|
| I tap it make it happen stress there’s eggs at home
|
| A captain be reactin' to the sweat as you moan
|
| Hold up give me a second
|
| I think Quik got somethin' else to say before we end this record
|
| This beat is for your uncle and aunt
|
| It’s old enough to be dope, but young enough to be hot
|
| Dedicated to everybody been beat by the cops
|
| Just tryin' to get to the party and pop tequila in shots
|
| The legendary incendiary resentment for authority figures
|
| From the most vocal of the local niggas
|
| California to death, bringin' Compton to life
|
| Makin' beats that’ll snap yo' neck and have you writin' a check
|
| You need to
|
| Get down on the ground, spread your legs, put your hands behind your back
|
| Get up and walk backwards towards me
|
| You under arrest for them big-ass breasts
|
| And that ass made me think you had a strap, pick your ass up
|
| Get down on your face, spread 'em wide, where your ID?
|
| Why you tryin to lie to me? |
| you’ve got the right to remain
|
| Either you can ride the big-ass bus
|
| Go to jail or go home with us, I need backup |