[Stricklin]
Yeah, big Strick, let's get it on...
Yo, last night I had a nightmare that I was wack
Nope, I'm sorry, it's that you said something dope
f** it, it don't matter, cause I know sh** ain't really like that
Cause if you said something dope, I know somebody else probably had to write that
You on the wrong song an' I'm on the right track
I hit the cypher, and you bounce talkin' 'bout "Strick, I'll be right back!"
What the f** you comin' back for?
I pulled up to the front of the club and hurried and scurried up out the back door
Just in time 'fore your a** got a cracked jaw
Mad cause I stack more than what the Lakers sign Shaq for?
Incredible rhymer, what the hell I'mma sell crack for?
I'm real, you a ac-tor, I'm hot, you just not a fac-tor
You on some 'bout to do, I'm on some already done sh**
I'll burn you with the same light you just lit up your blunt wit'
And I done came wit' the style you probably 'bout to come wit'
You the opposite of smart feces, get it, dumb sh**?
Could give a f** who you run wit'
Or them n***as you 'bout to go get
Matter of fact, go get 'em, you'll just be layin' on the floor wit' 'em
Lookin' up at me talkin' 'bout: "Why you let the fo-fo hit 'em?
I really don't know these n***as, I just did a show wit' 'em
Went back to the telly and I hit a couple of hoes wit' em
Met 'em at the studio an' just spit a couple of flows wit' 'em
Bought a bag of dro and just sat back and got high wit' 'em"
Oh yeah, that's good to know, now you 'bout to die wit' 'em
Head straight to the pearly gate, say 'hi' to the big guy wit' 'em
Or take it to that other level, down with the devil and fry wit' 'em
Grumble and groan, piss and moan, boo-hoo and cry wit' 'em
At least go home and tell his momma bye bye wit' 'em (bye, momma)
Cause duke, I'm the hottest n***a on earth right now
Ain't bust my gun in nine months 'bout to give birth right now
Run all up in a n***a hood and take his turf right now
Nothing's what your life is worth right now
I've been in sh** for too long, it's about time I burst
A & R's ready to quit cause they ain't find me first
Record labels ready to shut down cause they ain't sign me first
But let me stop right now cause I know y'all n***as be dying to rewind my verse
[Hook: Young Zee]
If y'all don't know how we gets it on
From twelve midnight to the cracks o' dawn
Got girls in the back takin' off they thongs
Then feelin' that something's wrong!
If y'all don't know how we gets it on
From twelve a.m. to the early morn'
If you sitting on things then blow ya horn
Cause if ya not there's something wrong!
[Masta Ace]
I came outta rap training camp as a reigning champ
An' lay motherf**ers down just like the pain of a cramp
I won't stop 'til I see my name and my face on a stamp
And y'all still won't be able to stick me or f** wit' me
I'm 'bout to leave my mark on this game like a buck fifty
Took shots but I duck swiftly, you just missed me
f** Alice, Ralph, Ed, Norton and f** Trixie
I'mma f** like it's my honeymoon 'til I touch sixty
You ain't a thug so don't try to get tough with me
If you think about tryna hit me, you'll get snuffed quickly
Deep down, hate Bobby Brown, but love Whitney
At times I wish I was O.J. and the glove fit me
Then I wouldn't have to hear none of you wack n***as
Talkin' bout how your crew's rich and you stack figures
In my hand's a chrome gun with a black trigger
I know you think your sh**'s big, but I pack bigger
Just ask your wife, cause I blasted her pipes
If I tell Strick to pa** me a knife would you ask for your life?
You's a p**y, I can tell by your song
h*mo/thug rapper, I can tell by your thong
Got sugar in your tank, you probably sh** syrup
The world's about to see what it is when I hit Europe
And when I come back home for my birthday
I'mma do another video, too explicit to play
[Hook]
[Young Zee]
Ace, Zee, yo Strick, Bricks, Zee, Outsidaz, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
n***as fear me like the fear of AIDS
I take out pretty boys wearin' shades
Or thug n***as with they hair in braids (punk)
Then f** yo' girl through that thing she wearing
Get her pregnant to leave that b**h a single parent
Got mad cars, you probably ain't been in a Jaguar
Drunk at Justin's, while you hang out at a f*g bar
Scared of jail, but at home you tryna rob
When you got inside you got sodomized by a lotta guys
Girls pile up in Young Zee room
I f**ed the wives of about twenty grooms on they honeymoons
We had a check sellin' bottles of rock
An' so much dope came we remodeled the spot
That's why y'all cats spittin', Tim's, they be (?)
See you grinnin' when I stop and the rims keep spinnin'
f** with Zee I'll bash ya face
I'll f**s wit' {*scratches*} Masta Ace, b**h