Jt Money - p**y Ass Kid & Hoe Ass Play lyrics

* credited to luke, as it appeared on his album of the aforementioned title Intro: luke Yo, it's a f**ed-up thing! I gotta bring kid n' play on this motherf**in' Album here, two p**y punk-a** n***as - yo, check this out, what i'ma do Is i'ma go get last year's rookie of the year, jt money of poison clan, This year's rookie of the year, bustdown - yo, bustdown, kick some of That west bank sh** on these f** n***as!! Verse 1: bustdown Well, I'm first up as a rhyme conveyor Luke records in the house for the payback, player Kid n' play can s** a dick! get me a mic and a 40 And let a real n***a wreck sh** To me you're walking on a tightrope. instead of tryin' To be real, you're steady sweatin' them white folks Keep runnin' your big mouth, but if you come to my hood, You'll get your a**hole whipped out! Then i'ma play you to the back seat 'cause I'm runnin' more game than a track meet athlete As if you didn't know, huh, you're dealing With a west bank dicksman, hoe But anyway, I got a rhyme to deliver Get your draws out your a**, quit frontin', my n***a 'cause if you don't, well you'll keep gettin dissed on And if I see you at a show and you're slippin', you're gettin' pissed on! Chorus (4x): [what about kid n' play? ] [wick-wick-wack!] Verse 2: jt money Now for starters, with kids I don't play 'cause y'all some f**-a**, punk-a**, coochie n***as anyway Jt I the house, n***as, check it Tryin' to diss my n***a luke to sell your wack record? Let me talk about the kid. i remember Some ol' coochie-n***a sh** you did When we was up in new york You was followin' luke, talkin' 'bout, "we gotta talk!" On that man's dick, got your a** wide Open and you're talkin' that bullsh** Both movies, I boo 'em, 'cause you had hoes, But you wasn't stickin' pipe to 'em Thought they was fantastic. but through the Whole f**in' movie, kid was gettin' his a** kicked And 'bout that other n***a play - he needs to Get dissed 'cause he's a punk n***a anyway Be 'round here kissin' hoes, while I'm dissin' hoes And stabbin 'em with fishin' poles You need to try to lay pipe in 'em Oh, I forgot - punks don't like women Now you're tryin' to diss somebody At jack the rapper, you was hangin' 'round luke's parties Now you're outta gas, with two motherf**in' Punk-haters on yo' a**, jt and bustdown Now let's see you hoe n***as get tough now Get the rubbers out your a**, dick-s**ers! ...and f** them p**y motherf**ers. Chorus Verse 3: bustdown Now let me put my boy kid in his place With them wick-wack rhymes soundin' like rob base! 'cause if I have to come tag that a**, I'ma max, wax, tax and drag that a**! I get sharp like a ice pick I'm on a hype tip, holdin' mic tight as a vice grip You couldn't deal with the concept I'm collected and calm, but on the mike I'm a bomb threat So motherf**ers get real I got a heart like gold and a dick like steel You wanna diss, punk? please! You got a flat top thicker than commodity cheese! Luke left it up to me and jt To take it from the bottom to the t-o-p I seen your second house party; it figures: Two house parties for two house-a** n***as! Outro: luke Two house motherf**in' n***as. do y'all n***as know what a house n***a is? a house n***a is a n***a who work in the house. who cleans The master's a**, who cleans behind the master, who wash the master's Ass. y'all house n***as. i'ma feel n***as, we feel n***as here in miami. That's why y'all n***as can't understand us, y'all f**-n***as talkin' too Much sh**, y'all n***as better watch what you sayin' 'cause y'all f**- n***as, y'all don't know, y'all get f**ed up here. yo, check this out - Miami is closed to y'all n***as. y'all barred. y'all can't come here no More, f**-n***as. y'all can't sell no more records here. and if all real n***as in the world is real like us, y'all don't buy them f**-n***as' sh** No more. 'cause they ain't sh**. p**y punk-a** n***as.