[LL Cool J](Snoop)
(Yeah, Big Snoop Dogg, X to the Z)
Yeah
(Uncle L, blast these bitch ass motherfuckers)
Yeah, Yeah
Pour your Dom on the floor, try to flow with me
Duke ’em raw with them whores, hide ya hoes from me (Whooo)
Your momma wanna chase, I’m just statin’ the fact
L.A. think about your broad all I want is the stacks
Cats flashin’ in my face is who I’m laughin’ at *HaHaHaHa*
So you made a little dough, but wutchu doin’ wit that?
Thought ‘cha girl ain’t feelin me
Why she grillin’ me, Black?
Admit I’m the man or else I’ll twist ya uterus back
On my lap, in the jet to Miami and back
When I tear through new school, all y’all records is whack
I’m from Q, for Quiet Killers
And U know I deliver
The double N, enough ammo for every nigga
S, that spell Queens stupid ass, run it back
That HBO shit, I must address that
Once and for all, what’s my opinion on Jamie Foxx?
He pussy. Pussy ain’t funny as Chris Rock, Ha
[Chorus: LL Cool J](Snoop){Xzibit}[Both]
You can’t fuck wit me
{Can’t fuck with me}
I don’t care about your imagery
(Fuck, nigga)
Give a fuck who you claim to be
(Fucker, c’mon)
You still can’t fuck wit me
[You can’t fuck with me]
You can’t fuck wit me
[You can’t fuck with me]
I don’t care about your imagery
(Fucker){Mother Fucker}
Give a fuck who you claim to be
{Yeah}(Nigga what)
You still can’t fuck wit me
[Jayo Felony]
No Go
Who you thought it was? Don’t be fuckin’ wit my Uncle, ‘cuz
One does up dick the pen in my streets go one way
I kill ’em In Living Color, on Any Given Sunday
They all anxious to be waitin’ to see how ill is my style
And if it enough to make Kevin Lyle spit this out right now
And get em with Juvenile feed pitbull puppies, bologna in the projects
You wanna die next?
Nah, he wanna live, and he loves his kids
We got this rap game on lock, like a cake rock
Gimme the key, run up in your spot
Like, you on your belly, gimme the key
What is it gonne be, what it is gonne see
When your blutter don’t mean
And if he keep tryna wipe it off, like «Nigga, what’s this song mean»
L got ’em cornered, bitch, why you speak like that?
Tattoed Def Jam under your wing like that
What? You a rider, not in my house, Mouth
Glad to escape down south to my Miami house
And fifty spring in the couch
[Chorus]
[Xzibit]
Let’s play a game of big bank take little bank (Yeah)
Big dank take little dank (Yeah)
I average ninety-five in the paint (C’mon)
We comin’ down like a shank
I know you wanna ride, but you can’t
We all up in your shit like a shank *ugh*
Don’t make me stop and pull brakes
Ya two downs are lookin cool, freakin a sound