[Intro]
It's early in the evening
8:37 PM
Yeah
Smelling good in here
Pacific Standard Time
Look at this y'all look
Drankin'
This what's happening
[Verse 1: DJ Quik]
No. 2 is for pencils, so I'ma do instrumentals
I write in my head, I still see too much potential
I’m throwin’ them parties, the ones you remember
In 1999, from June to November
I’m walkin’ round in my sandals, but I’m getting shit handled
With or without the scandal; yeah, I’m getting shit handled
Im too old? No such
Too funky, pretty much
That's whats up, nigga
Partying in L.A., niggas showin’ me love
They brought me 12 drinks and I threw up in the club
Are y'all gon' kill me? Am I gon' kill myself?
I go too fucking hard, I need to watch my health
See, I need to brush my teeth and shit
Lay off this leaf and shit
Before I get a DUI
See you high — Yeah, I'm high
Finicky people wanna hold me as hostage
I do about face and walk right into my conscience
Gold around my neck, ain’t nothing on my toes
A bunch of white powder, ain't nothing up my nose
I’m a geek I suppose
I’m a freak I suppose
I’m whatever you want me to be this week I suppose
Yeah, it’s getting, it’s getting, It’s getting kind of hectic
It's getting kind turnt and all these hoes getting naked
I'm toasting my bread, yeah, a toast to my bread, yeah
A toast to my homies, now let’s go eat and get fed, yeah
I’m feeling kinda loaded; yeah, I'm feeling some buzz
Yup, I'm filling my red cup, we 'bout to go bottoms up
Nigga don’t understand me, he’s a goddamn liar (Why?)
'Cause if he don’t comprehend me, he’s probably too damn high
Do you understand Porsche?
Do you understand Mercedes?
Do you understand buses and parties with fine ladies?
You still don’t, playa? Then I guess it’s good
I'm like that German writing you see under my hoods
Not in my hood, but up under my hoods
Be as stupid as you want to like they taught you you should
Niggas is 18 percent of population in school
50 percent suspensions, explusions — that shit ain’t cool, partna
School is free, life after that is not
Asphalt pavement is cold, tension in jail is hot
Muthafuckas In my neighborhood grew up to be nothing
I went around the world stuntin’, they still there doing nothing
And now its Three's Company on my planet
I'm kicking Chrissy out and keeping Janet
Thats a brunette, Moet — Who’s next?
Go check
Hey homie, if you don't mind, go open the door for those bitches
It's early in the evening
8:37 PM
Yeah
Smelling good in here
Pacific Standard Time
Look at this y'all look
Drankin'
This what's happening
[Verse 1: DJ Quik]
No. 2 is for pencils, so I'ma do instrumentals
I write in my head, I still see too much potential
I’m throwin’ them parties, the ones you remember
In 1999, from June to November
I’m walkin’ round in my sandals, but I’m getting shit handled
With or without the scandal; yeah, I’m getting shit handled
Im too old? No such
Too funky, pretty much
That's whats up, nigga
Partying in L.A., niggas showin’ me love
They brought me 12 drinks and I threw up in the club
Are y'all gon' kill me? Am I gon' kill myself?
I go too fucking hard, I need to watch my health
See, I need to brush my teeth and shit
Lay off this leaf and shit
Before I get a DUI
See you high — Yeah, I'm high
Finicky people wanna hold me as hostage
I do about face and walk right into my conscience
Gold around my neck, ain’t nothing on my toes
A bunch of white powder, ain't nothing up my nose
I’m a geek I suppose
I’m a freak I suppose
I’m whatever you want me to be this week I suppose
Yeah, it’s getting, it’s getting, It’s getting kind of hectic
It's getting kind turnt and all these hoes getting naked
I'm toasting my bread, yeah, a toast to my bread, yeah
A toast to my homies, now let’s go eat and get fed, yeah
I’m feeling kinda loaded; yeah, I'm feeling some buzz
Yup, I'm filling my red cup, we 'bout to go bottoms up
Nigga don’t understand me, he’s a goddamn liar (Why?)
'Cause if he don’t comprehend me, he’s probably too damn high
Do you understand Porsche?
Do you understand Mercedes?
Do you understand buses and parties with fine ladies?
You still don’t, playa? Then I guess it’s good
I'm like that German writing you see under my hoods
Not in my hood, but up under my hoods
Be as stupid as you want to like they taught you you should
Niggas is 18 percent of population in school
50 percent suspensions, explusions — that shit ain’t cool, partna
School is free, life after that is not
Asphalt pavement is cold, tension in jail is hot
Muthafuckas In my neighborhood grew up to be nothing
I went around the world stuntin’, they still there doing nothing
And now its Three's Company on my planet
I'm kicking Chrissy out and keeping Janet
Thats a brunette, Moet — Who’s next?
Go check
Hey homie, if you don't mind, go open the door for those bitches
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