Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wrong 4 Dat, artist - Redman. Album song Malpractice, in the genre R&BDate of issue: 21.05.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: DEF JAM, Universal Music
Song language: English
Wrong 4 Dat |
| This is WKYA, We Kickin Yo' Ass radio |
| All you motherfuckers out there that wanna get down with the pound |
| Put your motherfuckin pounds up, and start bustin the motherfuckers |
| Am I too loud for this motherfucker? |
| Turn me down a little bit |
| Yeah yeah yeah |
| Yo, first of all I’m a grown-ass man, pay my own bills |
| Stated own real, haters gon' feel |
| Direct Syndrome, mouth with cold tongue |
| You bounty hunters be on the chase for Joe Young |
| I won’t slip, keep pink slips to my car |
| I’m raw like sushi bars on bougie broads |
| I retrieve the money, dawg labrador |
| Ray Charles can see it, and Stacy Lattisaw |
| You get mashed out, cause your bird is peckin |
| Don’t be the next vinyl cut to _Urban Legend_ |
| I can feel where you at, when I pound you up |
| You out of town coke rhymes, oh you clowns is up |
| My crew stay in the truck, can’t fit in the Porsche |
| If you bitches ain’t happy, then get a divorce |
| I’mma do what I want, cause my time is now |
| Grab the whole rap game, and divide it down |
| If I wanna roll a Jeep with a seat out the back |
| Bitch feet out the back, system beat out the track |
| Am I wrong for dat? |
| (If that’s what you like) |
| Dawg, am I wrong for dat? |
| (Hey, I guess not) |
| Yo yo, if I walk into the club with my hand on my snub |
| Beatin down security cause I don’t give a fuck |
| Am I wrong for dat? |
| (Mmm mmm) |
| Dawg, am I wrong for dat? |
| (Say WHAAAAT?!) |
| Yo Keith, yo yo Keith |
| I copped the whole box, went half with Reginald |
| Hollow tips infrareds and (?) clips came free |
| And you ain’t gotta believe me, fuck bein nervous |
| Far as I’m concerned they’re at your funeral service |
| What do we have here? |
| Snitch in despair, shoot off his ear |
| Have his whole body shakin in fear |
| Stormtrooper fires throwin lashin out flames |
| A few ashes, when they analyze your remains |
| I live in the streets, reside with the toolie |
| I kill you like it’s part of my religious duty |
| Street sweeper thug keeper sweepin thugs under the rug |
| Even females who think they thugs |
| Trigger the release of adrenaline |
| When I’m gangsta-trippin like the Bloods’n’Crips’n’them |
| Unleash the matter of energy, killin 'em |
| Why’d you do it? |
| Because I wasn’t feelin them! |
| If I ride through the hood, smokin a ounce of haze (uh-huh) |
| With a shabby haircut, pants I wore for days |
| Am I wrong for dat? |
| (I don’t think so) |
| C’mon bitch, am I wrong for dat? |
| (Say WHAAAAT?!) |
| Yo, if I want a fat chick that keep her toes done (uh-huh) |
| When they playin my song ass spill out the thong |
| Am I wrong for dat? |
| (Got that big ass) |
| Am I wrong for dat? |
| (Tchk, nooo) |
| I gotta, bang the boogie to that bang bang pussy |
| To that bang to the pussy the beat, beat |
| And if yo', bitch ain’t sippin that Cristal shit |
| Then she might be leavin with D, D |
| I got a hairy-ass chest, like Austin Powers |
| That bitch that «Stan» drowned, I fucked around with her |
| Act like a man, stand on your own two |
| Doc takin it all, fuck who it belong to |