P.S.D. - What We Do lyrics

[Intro] Ay, check this out, right, who we got in here, cuddie? We got the Romper muthaf**in' Room in this muthaf**a Crew Thang and the Five-Trey-Fizzive Strictly SES, straight from the muthaf**in' Crest That's right. Mac muthaf**in' Dre is in this Coolio, you know, Da'Unda'Dogg That's right. Mac muthaf**in' Mall And the Sugawolf Pizzimp Not the pimp…what about PSD a/k/a Stevie D, b**h Oh, y'all didn't know? This is what we do… [Verse 1: Coolio Da'Unda'Dogg] My lyrical flow got me dwellin' up on the past Servin' ‘em on that a**, gettin' my cash, comin' up fast And'll blast you in a minute, drama, quick to jump up in it So end it ‘fore you begin it ‘cause I'm down to represent it And'll send you higher to your Messiah once I open fire At your own desire I'll flat you like a tire Wire me a kite if you full of fright, that electric sight Ain't no joke, n***as be comin' up short thinkin' they gonna fight Talkin' about that weed, servin ‘em sacks of indo; what you need? All of my homies keyed, n***as free from the life of greed Twisted up on the mixes, won't you fix us n***as somethin' to drank Can't get enough dizank up out the bizank, got put in my tank b**hes be wantin' my riches and they b**hes, man, be jockin' my switches Pullin' around my riches which is cool Because I get ‘em, and then I hit ‘em You see this what we do when we doin' what we do [Verse 2: Mac Dre] She wants to get married but I ain't and I cain't ‘Cause I'm sprung on my muthaf**in' dank and some drank I got a fat bank, huh, and still break hoes And if your b**h gets to jockin', I will break yours The Mac named Dre from the C-R-E-S-T Ask about a n***a and they all would say ‘Yes, he's the shizit' I gizit, much p**y on my dizick Never would I lizick or pay like a trizick I'm like that, potna, I thought you heard f**in' with your brain like some Thunderbird I'm doper than a joint of that potent dank And funky like the county jail holding tank Romper, Room, crew for life If I thrust ya once, hoe, I'mma thrust ya twice What is I'm sayin' on this microphone I get Romped out when my mic is on [Verse 3: PSD] I make the Statue of Liberty get freaky Scoot her panties over, play with her p**y Make her pay me to jook me Playa playa, oh hell yeah, motive be to skeet her Menage a trois, you, her and I, bubble while you G her, yeah A Crew Thang n***a keepin' it real Up against it with my protégés reachin' for mills We puts the p**y-whip in ill fashion And bend a corner hella squatted with that skrill flashin' (What you squattin'?) A Mitsubishi, 2-triple-zero GT VR 4, Nike shoe to the floor If it's not relatable to dollars I can't holla Tryna prosper, turnin' down nothin' but collars That's what we wantin', hutch, I strut with a limp Through the party off Bacardi with the Shug'Wolf Pimp, ugh PS to TS, Country Club Creezest We just gon' tear the roof off this b**h [Verse 4: Dubee] Now it's the hog in your dog speakin' once more Crestsidin' through the door, and pimp a hoe more Than them hoes they be frozen, jockin' on a player Hollerin' ‘Pimp ‘til I die, runnin' game like the mayor' Extreme heavy hustler, stack a chip fiend In the game of the big dogs, mutts and the fleas But G's like me, we pimp and don't slack Stack G's for my neez, fetti fiend for the scratch b**h, I'm hustlin' hard So now they wanna put the Mac down and bogard But I won't let ‘em, known to sweat ‘em for the green when I mack ‘Cause I hound dog hoes and sho' won't slack It's SugaWolf Pimp in me Nothin' but the muthaf**in' Mark Street G Servin' this game like a thang of the ‘caine somethin' serious Comin' like dick, mayne, flowin' like a period [Verse 5: Mac Mall] 1:40 in the morning, Brougham reekin' of the rope, see All my cuddies high and so am I so peep game I be bold These hoes is on some muthaf**in' alien sh** But me and k**-a-Hoe won't peel a hoe, push her off a cliff Ripped off Hennessy, trick b**h, I'll slap ya head off And if your n***a move, Crestsiders gon' dump that lead off Your man is a midget, he like to floss and trick bread off But hoe I'm from the North and fa sho' you gotta get off See I'm a third generation Mac I like my hoes hella thick like the trunk on my Cadillac But b**hes on me like Prozac Oh, you didn't know that little hoe was sessed out like that? [Chorus 4X] b**h, I thought you knew Comin' straight from the Crest, this is what we do