Kurupt - Drop That b**h lyrics

[Produced by: Salva] [Hook] Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h [Verse 1: Kurupt] In that muthaf**a hanging And she forever be singing With that thing in the back Make it backtrack, look up It's somewhat banging When I pull up and bang that track In the four And it ain't no stopping the show L.A metropolis so There just ain't no stoppin' when I hit that Bomb head in my car Got that bomb weed in my drawer Got them bomb seeds in my garden Valley Girl, Dolly Parton If that sh** don't be poppin' Got them dope fiends in Compton Got my n***as rose and my b**hes tho These mothaf**as keep poppin' molly Broccoli in my pocket's pocket Oxys and my pocket's brolic Smoking heavy in my Impala chevy parking and It's that gangsta instrumental Original indo For the hoes in s**y clothes They n***a never touched the bank roll Lemme get that [Hook] Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h [Verse 2: Schoolboy Q] Ugly n***a with a gang of b**hes Hoover street nifty-fifty business In my b**h whip with my L suspended Big Pimpin' misleading women Extra innings being good at pitching Blue khakis I'm locced out Got naked hoes in a dope house Put them hoes on a DVD Show them hoes what this 'pimp bout I'm pill poppin' Feds is watchin' I hopped the fence I don't need Cochran Clapped the DUI but my gun loaded If my men made it then my men sold it If the sun shine and that b**h [know it]? Come holla at your young scholar I'm top dog I'm Rottweiler I g**n and I spit lava I drink brews and I make moves I went so hard for these new shoes I go so deep in her vocals I lay it down on this Pro Tool I'm real n***a, you so full World tours, and you local All you say this sh** on the menu Give me large fries and I'll be cool Put your hands down by your ankles Make it clap for me for this bank roll I'll gladly poke on that pink hole Front to leaves I'm straight backwoods Hit my weed and I own you baby Might buy you something, that head good Now let me pinch on that donkey lady [Hook] Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h Drop that b**h, drop that b**h, drop that b**h [Verse 3: Problem] Whaaat [just a beggar?] though Kurt Angle way I play the rings Chains on, the fames on But I'm still good with that bada bing boy (what) My foreign chicks love coming to America (what) They go back like I never thought a problem with having me coming from America (what) Blast off I smash off like vroom vroom With a b**h as easy as Blues Clues Dirty flow need two brooms Diamond Lane everything We hitting everything Like we were juicing minute maid Knock it out the park another homerun Need I run home Cali mind, play with mine n***a run home Why you on the phone line while these n***as jump you (What fool?) f** you No it isn't ever like that But you saying that so you kinda make a n***a want to Me off the wee-little b**h, I'mma bump Then I'll f** Then I'll pump [With a key full of pumps]? I'm [up and]? off to the next Compton the home of the chrome to your neck f** all that, f** all that n***as tryna turn up one more time n***as thought I was done with the rapping f** that I need one more line Nick where you at? roll some more 5's sh** to fly won't pa** that up Diamond lane gang Diamond lane gang Problem, Casha, and Bad Lucc [Verse 4: Bad Lucc] Hold up bruh don't forget the lucky 4 finger ring cause the squad is [rusty?] Square can't touch me Homicide on the track made [musty?] Town aboriginal Rap [?] like a field goal I'mma show you where a mill go Knocked out I still go Hand me that jack uhh Hit him with the right-left uhh I'll plate none You get the plat plat on Send him on his a** like uh Where you n***as from With my crazy lady Your baby momma look like she made to pay me Shady baby Spend a bank roll on the aces baby You ain't getting money Hey you crazy, lady Bad luck with it I go Fat n***a lookin like a billion I know Rap n***a wanna bust head on the low You rather take a train into a shower of snow f**ing with your broad metals spitting about an o I don't wanna keep it you can get it from the show Feeling hella good, i'm just doing what i know Gotta king open up your head full of dough 100 shots of that fireball My hood got it covered like firewall If a n***a bleep twice, then I'm lining y'all But since you can't see my face, I'm not lying to y'all Start the beef and I push the line Diamond Lane, I'm from a different kind I do what I want, n***a f** the next line