Lyrics
Ya’ll motherfuckers do it for the love of the rap
I do it for the love of the rap, and the dubs and the lack
Do it for what dub in the black, in the club with the gat
Do it for the thugs in the back, who be hustlin' crack
Stop, y’all niggas brand new to the game
My gun blow, land two in ya brain
When it’s all said and done, we gon' see what’s up
Holla at Rock, he probably with Ruck
Now and forever, my nigga Sean Price the boss
Slap niggas talking about a Mike Tyson loss
I’m a broke rapper, hope that you like to floss
Plus a gold snatcher, four clapper, lights is off
None of y’all nice, all of y’all wack
And this thirty eight snub nose is, pressed in the small of ya back
Ya’ll niggas got hand skills, but can y’all brawl with a gat
Rosa Park niggas fall to the back, Sean P
One two y’all, and you don’t stop
To the beat y’all, when the drums drop
It’s Sean P, y’all, and ya don’t stop
Rustee Juxx, Boot Camp, and Ruck and Rock
One two y’all, and you don’t quit
Sean P, Big Ruck is the ultimate
One two y’all, and you don’t stop
Cuz you won’t stop, and I don’t stop
On the fourth of July, Jamaican niggas rock corduroy shorts
Sip Guinness stoute, forty’s in quarts
Drunk and high, skunk and thai
Pop’s did Tango & Cash, just once and he died
While follow his path, try’nna straighten demolish ya staff
Bag out the fifth, and hollow ya ass
Back when Buckshot was making «Who Got Da Props»
I was on the strip, who got the rocks, P
Trained by a vet, aimin' the sket, bangin' ya chest
Flamin' ya flesh, straight David Koresh, ooh
You can bullshit with rap if you want
Fuck bullshit, and catch a full clip up in your back when I dump
Fuck ya no name idiots, Kurt Cobain cocaine cigarette
Plain lame, acting ignorant
Lickin' it, ain’t playin', hittin' shit
Still maintain, entertain, still getting it
I got a Glock with a clock on the top
So when you pop it or not, you know what motherfuckin' time it is
Ya girl, on the top of my cock, you feel the snot in the box
You like, 'that bitch, grimey, kid'
Curious George niggas need to mind they biz
For I fuck around and find your crib
Open the door, hoping for war, scoping the four
Get on some disrespectful shit, and start groping ya whore
She got coke in the drawers, no doubt, crack in the ass
I pulled it out the crack of her ass