[Into]
This is for the real—real—niggas
Yo!
[Verse 1]
Hard beats like this keep my mentality raw
I G off C4 lyrics to blow off those Lex doors
My texture be the kind that explore MCs
And blow ’em out, metaphor after metaphor
I’m more wetter than your boy vigor
So how you figure you can fuck with this rap unemployed nigga?
I should own a fly bitch, house, and a Benz
But I got chickenheads, criminals, and broke friends
That love to get ends, keep the seventeens spinnin’
Pull out from my jaw linin’, commence to splittin’
Brains and body parts that motion couldn’t picture
‘Cause when I’m shitting, niggas hit more decks than a skipper
Mr. and Mrs. Howe, Mary-Anne and Ginger
Gilligan, you need the Professor to take the rigor…
Mortis out, I got orders to kill ’em softly (Uh-huh)
I wouldn’t leave a trace if I died and police chalked me
Who’s the boss, G? You better radio the walkie-talkie (Ugh)
For these Fatal Attrac MC’s that stalk me (Uh-huh)
Got a big dick in your bitch clit
When I flip this, I got more work than a Olympic gymnast
Bust it, I cut the mustard on any track
Milkier than Similac when I’m next up to bat
Redman is on the mic and I’ma… (Dope motherfucker)
Yeah, you best ask somebody
[Hook]
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
[Verse 2]
Fuck the talk, I walk whatever I claim to do
Knock a mule on her ass and turn the pussy black and blue (Haha)
You couldn’t run up if your Fighter was Virtua
I’m a ’round-the-clock lyricist, I sleep in my workboots
It’s a thin line between love and hate
It’s a thin line between the trigger and the finger of a .38
Dust by far, my rap repertoire
Be the art of murderin’ makin’ it hard for you to spar (Ha)
We can chill and puff the ganja, but don’t be mad
When the funk Doctor Spock smoke it with your baby mama
Get off my dick and tell your bitch to come here
Male groupies gettin’ shaky when I come from the rear, hah!
That get-on-your-nerve neighbor
That play the music loud as fuck three in the mornin’ off a paper
With mad Zul in the L-S-C
In the downtown area, scannin’ the perimeter
All my boos with the open-toed shoes
If you ain’t gettin’ that pussy eaten right, let me show you
Then let you taste these, this Brown Fox said
“Ain’t no nigga like the”—Funk Doctor Spock, G!
[Hook]
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
[Verse 3]
As I dive into the crowd… Uh-huh
I wanna see who the fuck gettin’ loud
Who the fuck runnin’ off at they mouth?
I let my nigga 50 Cent knock that ass out
Word bond! Bitches talkin’ bout pourin out Cristal and Dom P
They better stick to Chandon
Blackin’ out wildin’, smackin’ out weaves
Breakin’ niggas’ cheap-ass chains and medallions
You’re just a part-time sucker in the game
Shit is real, motherfucker, start namin’ names
And if you name my name, I whoop ass like Steven Seagal
Give you Under Siege 2 without the fucking train
Let your brains hang from the 808 bang
And if I wrecked your cipher, then my Squad is to blame
[Break]
(“Yes, yes, y’all”) Motherfucker! Haha!
(“Yes, yes…”) Haha! Haha! Nigga…
[Hook]
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
“Yes, yes, y’all, and you don’t stop”
[Outro]
We’ll be right back with some more funk shit for all you stankin’ asses after we pay these bills
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