| Rrrahh, look out
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| You musta got hit with some bullshit!
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| Yo, where at?
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| Smack dab across your lips, can you talk?
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| Ahm ahh ill uhh ahm no 'em no menna no vat
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| Yo ye yo Redman, what the fuck was that?
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| I don’t know but it’s on my top lip
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| Don’t crack jokes, and pop shit
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| Just get it off my top lip
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| Or Reggie, you can drop kid
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| Oah okay be still chill, I’m gettin' it off your grill
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| Wha-what was it?
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| Some of that pussy you ate this mornin' from that bitch Jill
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| Yeah
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| But c’mon, check it
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| Motherfuckin' right
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| Let’s get busy on this record
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| So we can make the dough, shit
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| And make girls like Kiki Shepard get naked
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| On the strength!
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| Party with machine and Oprah Winfr'
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| First class tickets
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| Hotel bitches puffin' mad blunts
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| Blunts? |
| Blunts
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| Blunts don’t don’t rhyme with Oprah Winfr' troop
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| Who cares what rhymes with it long
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| As the funk pump through my Benz truck
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| Now you know you don’t own a Benz
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| Yes, I do and chrome’s the trim
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| Black with a system
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| When it’s hittin' I’m pullin' mad skins
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| With Olde E sittin' in between my lap
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| And when brothers act up, a gun machine I pack
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| The original P-funk, got the jewels trunk, a funker
|
| When I’m sexin', my bad is bigger than any buster’s
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| Like Max and
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| Wait wait wait, could we get on with the tape?
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| Lights, camera, hahh, action
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| Welcome to Red’s tape, may I take your order?
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| It’s a slaughter if you order the hit without the water
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| And then swallow without the damn water to follow
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| You might be doin' the stupid dance and win a grand at the Apollo
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| Whatchu know?
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| I’m rough, snap necks, drink Olde E, but crack Beck’s
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| That ain’t what you told me last week
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| Wreck anything that’s wet, when I have sex
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| For instance, I mix with, a style that make you shit bricks
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| Tsk tsk, I’m musically gifted, to rip it
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| Terrific
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| Um shat lot, Red got crazy knots
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| And knots in the pots
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| Got props from here to George Washington Bridge
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| I get biz, I use hats, so no kids
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| Fuck, I took out more suckers, than a
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| Wait wait wait
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| Hold up! |
| I don’t think I can freak the funk like that
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| I might have to nap, because my afro is like Shaft
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| Puffy, fade it quite lovely and to snuff me
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| Get your gang, 'cause I’m fightin' with more power than Chuck D
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| Chuck D from Public Enemy?
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| Yeah, he’s a friend of me
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| The one that say, «Brothers and sisters?»
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| Yeah, but he’s no kin to me
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| I’m strictly Negro, I freak the style and there it goes, boom!
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| If a stitch in time saves nine, then I got shit sewed
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| Put pins in needles, and needles in pins
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| A happy man is a happy man, that, when I’m hittin' skins
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| Fuck skins, I’m hittin' puss when it’s gush
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| Then eat it when the puss is well cooked
|
| Look!
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| Up in the air?
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| No the cab
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| Who’s in the cab? |
| Whut thee?
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| It’s Superman! |
| Why?
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| Because it’s hot as a motherfucker out here
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| Oh word, you bet I’m gettin' the fuck out of here man
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| Yeah, me too
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| Oh I forgot to tell you Willya called for you
|
| Willya who?
|
| Willya suck my dihk!
|
| Aiyyo fuck you!
|
| Big nose bitch!
|
| I hate your stupid ass
|
| You a stupid motherfucker! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Redman Meets Reggie Noble , by - Redman. Song from the album Whut? The Album, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп