| You can lead yo horse to water
|
| But you cannot make him drink
|
| I’m just tryin to spit some game
|
| So you might wanna stop and think (2x)
|
| Okay, 'Lik's gon' come anew for '9−6
|
| Lead yo ass to the aqua, but I can’t make a brother rich
|
| You gotta go for self, and then help others
|
| Mama wasn’t lyin when she put you up on game, brother
|
| All up in the house gettin loud and disrespectin
|
| 'Lik steps in, regulatin and hoe-checkin
|
| All them makes wishes, ain’t already tryin to sympathize
|
| Players stay paid all day, but yo ass stays broke and high
|
| Oh my, kids and stuff all over like some roller skates
|
| Still I keeps it on my pape and niggas be tryin to playa-hate
|
| But that’ll get you rolled up sideways
|
| Whoever said crime pays never got 3 strikes in L. A
|
| Makes you lonely, sayin, contributin to mines
|
| You could be hella fine, but ain’t nobody spendin mines
|
| Mobbin with the Crowbar with some common sense
|
| You can stay hella bent, I be at the water stackin presidents
|
| One of these goddamn set-backs of havin your mail fat
|
| Is some of these lax-ass wanna-be macks, and you hoes in black
|
| They tracks sound booty, and they ain’t doin they duty
|
| In the studio, and only if you knew me, though
|
| You’d see that I puts in work, and puts hurt
|
| On your flirts that wanna wear skirts and try to jerk
|
| But you’se in love with a fantasy, trick
|
| You wanna 'sit on yo ass, collect checks and shit'
|
| You was younger than me, so I schooled ya
|
| Gave you the tools to come up and get down like a ruler
|
| Took you to executive brunches, high-powered lunches
|
| Gave you dough in bunches
|
| So get your fried chicken and your watermelon
|
| Start the yellin, Mix-A-Lot is why you ain’t sellin
|
| Old Uncle Tom nigga gettin mad
|
| But you know you never worked for the shit you had
|
| Start drinkin, bitch
|
| Hey yo, 'Lik, fill in the blanks
|
| What’s up with these would-be gold diggers chasin entertainer niggas
|
| Handin out sugar daddy contracts to big black macks in black pimp Caddies
|
| I mean excuse me for pimpin, but ah…
|
| Tryin to see a meal ticket like’s they big goals
|
| Rollin fat hoops and rollin gizzy stashin big loads
|
| Jump your woman, but ain’t handlin yo business
|
| County aid plea, check so small you can’t buy bisquits
|
| Got you a family, still you all up in mines
|
| Fuckin off’s the hot rule, but see, 'Lik gon' fit to be fine
|
| She ain’t right, got her shorties runnin the streets with retardation
|
| Bein barely sleep, puttin on that sneaky dick in her
|
| Boys will be boys, that’s how the game goes
|
| Ask Mix-A-Lot, they all hoes, and this player knows
|
| Better bumrush school and get your G.E.D
|
| Cause welfare, homey, been cuttin back since '83
|
| Two carts ??? |
| and still be tryin to front
|
| Use your diaper money to load up them philly blunts
|
| Get a 9 to 5, change your whole mindframe
|
| Cause doin without ain’t what’s happenin, put yourself up on game
|
| Kill or hustle, somethin, gotta drink the water, girl
|
| That’s from a sister, 'broke' don’t exist in Malika’s world |