Ain't nothin like poppin the brains on a
Corvette With your pet in the passenger seat
Ass at your feet, askin if you can pass her the ****** (Faster please)
California masterpiece
Recorded partially in
New York With a blue spark on a purple plant and
I worked your aunt (She loved it) primarily under the circumstance
Don't be mad,
I was bad, she was better, sweaty palms
But I bet her and she told your moms and wrote a letter
Now they comin back to get off of the curb because
I swerved on her (beat it ******!)
I ain't never been ******t, that's what my mommy said
Now they callin to check to see if
I took the gun from under my bed
She don't trust me,
I don't trust me, my psychiatrist don't trust me
And I ain't called 'em back,
I hope the cops don't come and bust me
I'm feelin lusty and my purple video tape is trusty
But I can't go to sleep with lotion on because
I might get musty
I ride motorcycles and crash 'em on purpose into a crowd of bystanders so my insurance policy won't be worthless [Chorus]
Now quit that ****** ******t, we gon' ****** you up mayne
We gon' ****** you up mayne, now get the ****** outta
Dodge It ain't gon' work mayne, we gon' ****** you up mayne
We gon' ****** you up mayne, don't make me pull the pump out the garage
And posse up mayne, we gon' ****** you up mayne
We gon' ****** you up mayne, you must be high on that sherm
But you gon' learn mayne, we gon' ****** you up mayne
We gon' ****** you up -
WE GON' FU
CK YOU UP! [DJ Quik]
Bridget Bridget
Bridget was a girl that
I knew But she's a dumb hoe, and baldheaded like
DJ Pooh Her saggy body tried to crash the party like
Mobb Deep
With her elephant feet
I got a whole lot to say but it won't come out
Probably because
I got this 38 in my mouth
And I'm pissed,
I'm 'bout to nut up, ****** you ****** shut up
Like Mau******erg,
I'll leave your chest burnin on the curb
Hennessy to
XO, crashed in the
Lex-o I make the bridge flex 'til these ****** ******z let go
And I'm upset because
I'm all alone
Homies don't play by the rules, ****** 'em then
I'm glad they gone
Pluck 'em out the flowerpot, flush and make they shower hot
Blister and scour,
I'm pistol-whippin with power, make 'em holla like chicks
Out in L.A. ain't nuttin good to talk about
Except dead homies, and how in '82 we had all the money
That's Freeway
Rick and that
C.I.A. ******t 22 years later, it's just some ol' player hater ******t
How many gangs can kill people under the age of 12
Get snitched on and go to jail, for another 22 years
And who gets recognized for pouring out the beer
And how many young blacks drink and smoke to cover they fear
It's ****** up [Chorus] [DJ Quik]
I made my momma a promise that
I would make it home honest
She knew that there were no problems cause she could see right through it
She know I'm deeper than half of these ******z, flyer than most of 'em
And that's as clear as you can see from off in your coast
And you ******z don't understand these 16 bars from within
If being **** is an abomination then
I am a sin
Cause I'm fly like the wind, and
I'm high to the end
My enemies are my used-to-be friends, where do
I begin It's a sesspool of stress, you cowards drink from the well
Got no energy for haters, you suckers can't give me hell
Cause you whack and you stale, and you act like you bail
You talk that ******t 'til you gotta prove ******t, get smacked when you fail
In the midst of it all
I'm just persistin to ball
While these haters tumble and stumble and bumble and fall
I'm the key to cut your meter off,
I'll blow what you worth
And befo' anything else on this earth -
YOU'LL GET
****** UP! [Chorus]