Too $hort (too Short) - Here We Go (J.D. Remix) lyrics

[Chorus] We talk sh**, cause we are the sh** Never looked back since we started it When y'all want heat we provide it, ride it 'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off Six figure n***as with it, over did it, spit it In ways that'll cause a rush Keeping your face in a state of disgust Hating but still trying to be like us Twist the lime on the corona, grab my crime diploma Then head to the block, to pull up five in the mona sh**, I need to chrome up, become a home owner Look life's a b**h, but I'm on her I almost cracked this, no more hustling backwards Up the ave I zip, n***a trying to have sh** I'm your average, ghetto n***a turned maverick You'd never, said to a n***a "Whatever for the cash, I'm with" I don't have step, I leave it in you're averix Then shoot it it the air, whatever I have left Outlaw, simply I out draw y'all Wether clubs or the street, I out ball y'all n***as ain't ready, I doubt all y'all Fly a** n***as I reroute all y'all If it ain't for the paper I don't show my face up Make a bet I turn the ace up, and Jay, what I never stop making money don't give 'em no slack Drinking dirty motherf**ers til a hoe come back With my scratch, b**h I was born to mack To uphold the pimping, I was sworn to that I hear a lot of sh** talking when I listen to rap Only a few MC's get to hang that plaque On the wall rappers ball, but they don't live phat n***a, I doubt if you go gold or platinum What we do has only been mastered by a few I take a half a million tapes sell 'em straight to you All that sh** n***as talking just cant be real I don't need a record deal, I need eighteen wheels I roll right up in the hood I got tapes for sell b**hes running in their house they cant wait to tell Somebody, she got a new Too tape And hes spitting pimp game with his homeboy Jay [Chorus] Now here they come again the gold diggas trying to get paid, Wanna trick the old rich n***as, trying to get laid She'll s** his dick, as soon as she meet him Don't have to sell a body for me I don't need her To turn tricks for me, how much you cost b**h? I'm all about large bank deposits On and off the mic I always set trends Either you see with b**hes, or I'm rolling with pimps Brook-laan to Oakland, I keep smokin' Jay-Z and short dog at these hoes again The kinda n***as that'll take a square b**h around the corner Put this pimp game on her I don't f** with broke hoes and I don't trick But I'll still rub my big a** dick on her clit Get her hooked, wanna be mine I need some money If she ain't kicking in all the time she don't want me Hoes, flows, money, cars Y'all wannabe stars cant f** with none of these bars This is real n***a rap, we can spit it through the mic And you can feel n***as scratch, and sell a mil if that So real when we drop this sh** its in trouble When I guess the pair you gotta ship it double In the independent phenom, y'all miniature dons Wannabe jigga, pops styles and hennessy richa' When I die, leave my canopy richa' I put it down hard ever since I entered the pit'cha Can f** with me for records to the recreational cent'a I got it wrapped y'all from the grammy's to the back park Short dog y'all, what you thought y'all, Oakland, Bk, New york y'all Be the voice for the streets we supply for years And go platinum on our most quiet years [Chorus: x2]