| Ayyo, ayyo, ayyo Quik check this out dog
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| You know mothafuckers be doin' way way too mothafuckin' much
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| You know? |
| That’s real
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| Just like baby right here, she doin too much
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| Now if that nigga next to you got a rented car
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| And he actin' like it’s his but you know it’s not
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| Say he doin' too much, yeah nigga you doin' too much
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| And if that stuck-up bitch got the bar posted-up
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| She actin like that hair’s hers but you know what’s up
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| Say she doin' too much, yeah baby you doin' too much
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| I gave my kinfolk the keys to my Suburb
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| I told em «Hit the side and slide and get the herb»
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| But guess who’s callin', Pipedream Patty
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| Made that nigga park my whoride beside the alley
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| Forget about that nigga though (fuck that nigga)
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| Fuck that nigga yo
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| But I can’t forget about him 'cause he taught me everything I know
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| Oh no Joe, walkin' down the wrong lane
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| Tootin' on that cocaine, fuckin' wit that wrong thang
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| Niggas like that (what), get things like they want it (damn)
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| Then fake the funk, doggonnit
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| Now loc, look at this predicament
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| You smoked out and can’t be trusted, I can’t kick it wit
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| Niggas like you, used to be in my crew
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| Goddamn, they don’t make niggas like they used to
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| I remember Marley Marl and the Juice Crew
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| That’s probably why I keep a tight grip on my deuce-deuce
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| Now if you’re doin' for your family and you can’t stand it
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| 'Cause you know these mothafuckers tryin' take advantage
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| Say they doin' too much, yeah nigga you doin' too much
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| And if your kinfolk broke and he smoke dope
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| And he need to catch a mothafuckin' different stroke
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| Say he doin too much, yeah Joey you doin too much
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| We parlay, parlay everyday DPG style
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| We might throw a pool party every once in a while
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| Now in fact we gon' do one this weekend
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| Let’s see how many hoes me and my nigga Rose can weed in
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| I believe in, sharin' the cock
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| Also, I believe in comparin' the cock
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| Look, don’t knock a nigga like me (why?)
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| 'Cause she love the way I just beat up the pussy
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| Not just knee deep, she was totally deep
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| When she went down on me
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| She blew a nigga socks off, got a nigga rocks off
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| Ooh wee, baby you’s a freak
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| Put my homie up on game like a gangsta
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| But my homie fell in love and he banked her
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| Ain’t that a trip? |
| Now we in a twist
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| Back in the county wit the red ribbon on his wrist
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| Now when a nigga hit his girl and she don’t hit back
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| And he get his third strike wit no get back
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| Say he doin too much, yeah homey you doin too much
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| And when the homey in the pen, doin a sin
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| And his girlfriend fuckin wit his best friend
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| Say she doin too much, hell yeah she doin too much
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| I’m livin' up in the hills, wine sippin' wit mills
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| I’m havin' major type of paper, I ain’t trippin' off bills (still)
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| Show me some respect and accept my coolness
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| And don’t mistake my kindness to mean I’m foolish
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| Use this as a warning, 'cause I’m startin'
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| To figure it’s some niggas think I’m soft as Charmin
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| Pardon me, 'cause I ain’t mad when you get bent
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| But I hate when fools mistake me for U.S. ?spray?
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| Friends and family, gettin' after me like repo
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| Eat, smoke, choke then want me to throw 'em a c-note
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| You doin' too much when you clutchin' on my touch-tone
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| Callin' strays over nigga leadin' months gone
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| Conversate for fo' hours, wastin' mo' power
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| And only get to hit a cold shower
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| You fakin' like you’re makin' more moves than Simpson
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| But frontin', pushin' buttons, doin nuttin' but sin
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| And when a nigga on yo' phone, runnin' up yo' bill
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| Tryin to tell some hoodrat bitch how he feel
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| You know he doin' too much, yeah nigga you doin' too much
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| And when your baby momma cryin' 'bout she need some milk
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| And you heard some other nigga did been at her tilt
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| You know she doin too much, yeah baby you doin too much
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| That’s real |