Оригинален текст
Verse 1: DJ Quik
I dont really give a fk what you think
I only really give a fk what you drink
Im a bar-tender, car spender, a d*ck lender, cash spender, as* bender
A as* spender
Get it crackin like a bar throw in here
A wh*rehouse, got these girls walkin naked through out the whole house
What the fk U think my life is about?
girls hatin
What the fk U think that butter knife was about?
girls hatin
Tell what the fk this d*ck is about
Do he just be talkin s**t? No I doubt
He got years of clout
Like reballin credit line on a Mastercard
Drived it right between the p*ssy then I bash the broad
Then I took it for a minute
As I punch through my code
Tehn I waited for the pearls come out
Loan put on hold, Bankrupt, get ya stank stunk
Frontin like Pooh bear, I opened up ya c*ck & hollered sayin
Who there? (Nobody, what?)
Thats nice, little bug*ers done grew up the be the size of rice
So I jumped back & grabbed for my coller
Her p*ssy appreciated the pennies on the dollar
Now what the fk
If U want the d*ck get the fk up
And stop actin like an old tampon, stuck up
Give me somethin to get my step on
Then trek on, what up
Ill make you bust nuts till I nut up
(Chorus 2X)
The birdz and the beez
All the forties
Not with consume, drink up become roomed
The fk up in the room with the door locked (Door locked!)
Wake up, divorce the b*tch, leaveer lookin for some more c*ck (More c*ck!)
Verse 2: Hi-C
We ride, sweet c*ck, juicy boo
Like Crips and Pirus, s**t, we goin do
I fell in the club and hit the dance floor
Yo boy got mad cause I dipped with his ho
Baby had my tootise, returnin slow
She was sick got me lookin for Pepto Bismol
Chips stackin, jaws smackin, dolla droppa
Dice shake ya money makin, dolla poppa
Home wreckin, ho checkin, d*ck is slow
Bring me back, cognac from the liquor store
Bet cha didnt know that yo ho is a freak
Every week she got something up in the jaw meat
And I aint policy
Spit it out
U goin zip my zipper before we get it out
They wanna be touched by the untouchable click
Dont hate, participate, yall sing that s**t
Chorus
Verse 3: AMG
When I bump on this trouble
What Im sipppin on make it a double
When Im wit who, think Id a hustle
More money and muscle
Shake the hooker like a trick up
Leatehrnwood three up off to the good
When Im dippin Im jacky
When Im a flippin Im saggie
When Im high Im a fly guy in the khakis
Big d*ck of the day, better ran the man
When I put in floss mode lookin for hands
U scr*p gone bad
Ho wishin ya had
Knack it up in the pad
d*ck suck and Im glad
Neva knew what a ho was
Checkin yo buzz
While Im sittin in a first class digit in the as*
nigg*, you done lost ya playa pass (strip nigg*)
3 of 4 been ran upon that as*
Scratch up on the gas of the S5 double
Like when I said when I bump on this trouble
Can I (oooooh)
Chorus Till Fade