I'm dippin' There's money to be made It's funny how she layed when I told her she couldn't stay Look here, my boo'll be through So you gotta raise, boy
friends and try to clown me Why you always tryin to pull that boo-boo? I'm gettin tired of all that bullshit Always talkin dis and dat Your girls screamin, "We
in trouble cuz I done fucked around and hit a six Who the fuck is ya'll wack niggas ignoring Put me in a room full of murderers they be dead by the
In 'Em, I Be With Pimp, We Be Pimpin, From San Francisco To Memphis, I Cut Tha Baddest Of Bitches, And Then Fa' Get When I'm Finish, (Who?) I Jus' Talk
to put your work down, put your guns down And report to the pit, the gravel pit Leave your problems at home, leave your children at home We gon' take it back underground, I be
Likwit We gifted, twenty-four hours and still lifted (*X*: Bitch keep your vagina) We drunk and ain't interested Bitches come a dime and a dove, we ain
boo-yaa We almost thay-urr [Rizin Sun] Lock down the spot Put your vest on punk, we in the parking lot [Young Buck] One of them all day killers, who
money (And then what?) I don gave 'em my pimp cup for a gangsta hat Traded my gangsta hat for some gangsta raps Only to find out that no gangsta's rap
adore them I miss mine, cause I'm always out here touring Or with the strippers at the Hilton up on Cortland One from Utah, the other one from Portland We
and we pray, and we pray, and we pray, and we pray Every day, everyday, everyday, everyday And we pray, and we pray, and we pray, and we pray Still we
to you But no matter how it go, nigga We still gon' be bringin' it thug style to you buckin' Boo yah, checkin' these bustas do be kind of fun Because
OK, I got the loop for you, go ahead and do your shout-out And then we'll get to the countin' (OK, I'd like to make a shout-out to Boo-Boo and to Marquesha
drop on me Probably turned the burner around 20 degrees So I could see who bust me, who knocked me out Who tried to choak, who tied the rope, who left
everyday it's the same But that night we hit the hoop game Who was playin Seattle versus Golden State Hollered at the home boy Gary Payton After the game, we
Gangster Red, whassup yo? It's a Tribe thang Madman gonna get cha, quick with the cuente See a gang, no there ain't no jugate Rollin' like a psycho with
Yeah, bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five Soul assassins, Cypress Hill joint Yo, we want everybody out there to throw their hands up So get