| So what I rock the tracks
|
| that be weird like that
|
| even to this you couldn’t catch
|
| me with photomat
|
| my mack will leave you more cheeky
|
| than the japs D.O.A.
|
| I’ll make up like a big cat
|
| fill the raft
|
| of the shaft brother
|
| gettin DAP like a little
|
| from Brooklyn hangin with
|
| nut crack like that
|
| tight nigger that a light ciggers
|
| blow sniffers *
|
| flow spitters
|
| make sure you bring your phone witcha
|
| twist the situation
|
| and make you hole hit ya
|
| (red man)
|
| rock rock on open you with the fumes of smoke
|
| I left in the vocal booth
|
| disablin’plugs and microphone cablin'
|
| smoke filled automobiles I rode daily in
|
| I * hooked the track till they blow
|
| shit for 30 G’s
|
| I ride blindfold
|
| with bongos
|
| ha ha ha
|
| uh ah uh ah uh ah
|
| so hit the road Jack
|
| and don’t you come back
|
| shit I wanna make the cheddar
|
| till I make bass collapse
|
| hit more holes than Minnesota Fats
|
| you’re brains been tapped
|
| my superior aristocrat
|
| murder 16 bars
|
| drunk off o snaps
|
| pumped so many tracks
|
| you might think I do crack
|
| rip the microphone like a hair wrestlin match
|
| lick your lips bitch
|
| cause your shit might eat chap
|
| you know Nikki D.
|
| these fake bitches be awsome bullshit *ing with the triple P demolish wax polish
|
| this dick I got
|
| will make the baddest bitch topless
|
| jobless
|
| red litty
|
| shitty
|
| got niggers in Germany blitty
|
| now I’m the new president
|
| and sellin spinach
|
| 50 cents and up can’t handle get there *
|
| hu ha check check it out
|
| friggy, diggy, jiggy diggy
|
| check it out
|
| doctors in the house
|
| don’t like what I’m sayin
|
| got the nigger
|
| shit is bad, bad, bad, bad
|
| the year 2000 |