| I got the 411 on you stunts
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| Ho’s rig me up or rig me up, only once
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| My dick’s at attention, amazed by the tingle
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| Thinkin about the ho, so I gave one a jingle… THEN
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| Threw a fuckin brew down my neck
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| St., crooked letter, D-E to the S
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| Dug the shitty gold-diggin bitches
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| But then I got cheaper like Lucky’s, the low price leader
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| It’s the thang to do, up and give the ugly ho’s the boot
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| Cause know I think the fine ho’s are skipping to my loot
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| I know the scoop, I know the whole deal on you tramps
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| (Treated me like a wet food stamp)
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| You think you all that cause the shit that you wearin
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| The gear that you got, the whole crew be sharin
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| I’m in that ass gigglin, you out for my loot in again
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| Ya brain must be jigglin
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| Look at my beanie
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| Ooo wee got a loonie on my weanie, kablowee
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| Got tricks up my sleve’s like a whodini, you see me
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| Puttin it, but couldn’t it be cool
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| Won’t buy yo ass sea food, fuck, buy me ???
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| School, my niggas if you got the fat Pontiac Lafonne’s
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| You’ll pull hella bitches like the Fonz
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| I cons, ho’s that mainly won’t True’s&Vouge's on the «O»
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| School a young-ass bitch wit a old fool
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| They only out to get dividends when living in the sauna
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| A «Material Girl» like Madonna
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| Your honor, shit is getting hectic and more crazy
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| Hell yeah they on welfare, but don’t spend it on they babies
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| Act shady, when you call they scandolous-ass a slut
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| But bro, a ho is someone that get’s paid to fuck
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| If the shoe fits on you bitch, wear it like them fake pony tails
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| Oops… let my muthafuckin homie tell the scoop
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| I know the scoop… I know the whole deal on you tramps
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| (Treated me like a wet food stamp)
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| I had a brand new jeep and we was rollin
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| Told her it was mine, but that shit was really stolen
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| She asked me to shoot her to the crib, so I did
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| Walked to the house and the bitch had about 12 kids (small world!)
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| Hangin on my brand new Girbaud’s
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| What’s wrong wit my nose, I got a shit stain on my clothes
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| Look down and say a little BeBe
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| And felt like bootin that little nigga
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| 'Cross the room like I was Pay-Lay
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| That’s how they get you to the crib
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| You did couldn’t pass off the chance, cause that ass was hella big!
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| And she was walkin and that fat ass was swingin
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| I’m thinkin about bangin her, somebody kept ringing her
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| The phone was ringing every twenty seconds
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| And I’m still gettin bothered by these dirty adolecent’s
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| Spillin hella kool-aid on my K-Swiss
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| Hey bitch are you finished?
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| Grab this bottle, and poured hella drank in it
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| He was drunk, so the other kids jumped on
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| Mama grabbed the high hell, and straight clumped em
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| I still fucked, but it took a little drank though
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| And I bet I still fuck a stank ho
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| Why, bother?
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| I’m bombed out like Pearl Harbor
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| For??? |
| sex I cut em loose like a Barbara Beef Cake
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| The cheapskate, never got swundeld for a bundle
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| Bitches got weaves on, hair long like Rapunzle
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| I crumble, a phone number, but I stills bury bozack
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| Rollin in dough like Pillsbury
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| I don’t carry a pull out, just my pager
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| But I’ll pull out major, Black got more sacks then Lawrence Taylor
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| Captain Save A… Ho's stashes loot on the low tip
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| To get the boots, he buys this bitch a Girbaud fit
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| Shooby, doo-wop, Ohh I got’s to have it
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| Yuk got cabbage, I clothesline a bitch line Randy Savage
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| Not your average sexual, man to be
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| Ya handin me the buddah, a bitch couldn’t drown me with the Bermudha
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| Triangle, I dangle bank roll, suck the dank roll
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| And I bet I still fuck a stank ho, it’s like that |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Scope , by - Luniz. Song from the album Bootlegs & B-Sides, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп