[Intro]
Well...check it out
I done found out that's there a fine line between being brilliant (uh-huh)
And being plum loco (oh fo' sho', hell yeah)
[Verse 1]
Get back, get forward, get raised, get lowered
Do some extreme shit, keep from being bored
Now it's double up, hoes come a nickel a dozen
They get hot and get fucked and don't remember from buzzin'
That's why you don't see me, I ain't at the club
I'm chillin' with my homies in the city of Hub
Because they needin' more than that ho (than that ho) the big fat ho
Tryin' to get every ballin' nigga in the saddle (yee-ha!)
Lap dance, fat chance, hot pants, you the man
Nowadays you can't tell, watch the crotch, it may swell
You needs a pap smear; you need to know
If you got an STD, some little critters in your trap, dear
Get on, me and my homies is indivisible
And don't floss money, looks better when it's invisible (yes)
We get props from Wall Street to y'all street
If ya missed it, I stay consistent (Why?) We got heat
C-P-T style, O-G me style
The D-J, Q-U-I-K with no C style
In yo' town, don't trip nigga, it goes down
And when you see me in all blue, you gon' frown
But I'm bridging the gap, I'm rigid with rap
Money or respect? Bitch, I'd rather have the digits than daps (tell 'em)
So give me the haps, do you want the meat or the scraps? (c'mon)
Put heat on my naps, and now my hair look sweet on my lap (always)
'Cause it's the same thang tryin' to kill the gangbang
Set examples for the kids, on how to maintain
Never be a lame brain; y'all ain't gotta feel the same pain
That put a nigga like me on the mainframe
Bow down, back up nigga, I'm hot now
And don't try to resuscitate me, when I'm shot down
Just call my homie Theo on the radio
And let him know his little homie Quiksta had to go
Because "Gangsta, Gangsta," that's what they yellin'
But niggas do dirt, get caught, and start tellin' (shut up!)
Talkin' to you G's with no heart
We was throwin' and runnin' from bullets before gangsta rappin' was an art
Nigga (nigga), so don't test ya bulletproof vest (nah)
'Cause real niggas do real thangs up under stress
That's from the C-P-T, young G with heart, too
Oh, we still party, but now it's part II
And
Well...check it out
I done found out that's there a fine line between being brilliant (uh-huh)
And being plum loco (oh fo' sho', hell yeah)
[Verse 1]
Get back, get forward, get raised, get lowered
Do some extreme shit, keep from being bored
Now it's double up, hoes come a nickel a dozen
They get hot and get fucked and don't remember from buzzin'
That's why you don't see me, I ain't at the club
I'm chillin' with my homies in the city of Hub
Because they needin' more than that ho (than that ho) the big fat ho
Tryin' to get every ballin' nigga in the saddle (yee-ha!)
Lap dance, fat chance, hot pants, you the man
Nowadays you can't tell, watch the crotch, it may swell
You needs a pap smear; you need to know
If you got an STD, some little critters in your trap, dear
Get on, me and my homies is indivisible
And don't floss money, looks better when it's invisible (yes)
We get props from Wall Street to y'all street
If ya missed it, I stay consistent (Why?) We got heat
C-P-T style, O-G me style
The D-J, Q-U-I-K with no C style
In yo' town, don't trip nigga, it goes down
And when you see me in all blue, you gon' frown
But I'm bridging the gap, I'm rigid with rap
Money or respect? Bitch, I'd rather have the digits than daps (tell 'em)
So give me the haps, do you want the meat or the scraps? (c'mon)
Put heat on my naps, and now my hair look sweet on my lap (always)
'Cause it's the same thang tryin' to kill the gangbang
Set examples for the kids, on how to maintain
Never be a lame brain; y'all ain't gotta feel the same pain
That put a nigga like me on the mainframe
Bow down, back up nigga, I'm hot now
And don't try to resuscitate me, when I'm shot down
Just call my homie Theo on the radio
And let him know his little homie Quiksta had to go
Because "Gangsta, Gangsta," that's what they yellin'
But niggas do dirt, get caught, and start tellin' (shut up!)
Talkin' to you G's with no heart
We was throwin' and runnin' from bullets before gangsta rappin' was an art
Nigga (nigga), so don't test ya bulletproof vest (nah)
'Cause real niggas do real thangs up under stress
That's from the C-P-T, young G with heart, too
Oh, we still party, but now it's part II
And
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