Teksty piosenek: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

Tytuł: Do dat

  • Wykonawca: Petey Pablo
  • Wy¶wietleń: 292

  
   [Intro]
  Aiyyo check this verse out
  My platinum chains, my big willy, my Mercedes-Benz
  That's right? {*laughing*}
  
  [Verse 1]
  Are you a gun busting nigga? (Buh-Buh-Buh-Buh)
  Are you a bitch baggin nigga? (Whu-Whu-Whu-Whu)
  You got ice and ya chain and ya chong wit your Rolly on
  Not just any Rolly but you bought the most expensive one.
  Hey take ya car keys*Jingle Jingle* to ya class E
  Big body be for your CD- I mean, DVD
  For ya T.V in ya head beats, in ya back seat
  Haha, y'all think I'm mean
  Runnin round talking bout the shit that you be talking bout
  How you the drug game sold up and locked down
  John Gotti got life and I'm sure he never told nobody
  Boy lets put on an album so the fuckin feds could buy it
  You shouldn't be shouting out them bodies you buried
  Nine millimeters and Techs and them AK47's
  Illegal weapons you talking bout you snucked in the club
  You got so many guns
  Tell me why you rappers steady getting robbed
  I got two more verses for you (huh)
  this ain't just to an individual person
  These questions here for all of ya
  
  [Hook]
  I can write a song without ice, bitches, and cars
  can you mutha fuckas do dat? (DO DAT?!)
  I can blaze a track without bustin a gat at a cat
  can you mutha fuckas do dat? (DO DAT?!)
  
  [Chorus 2x]
  Yoouuu gon' have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
  When the radios in the club get to pumpin this
  And they start to finding out what what rappin really is
  
  [Verse 2]
  Verse 2, now that you know what the song's about
  Yall probably cussin me out
  You gonna listen to it anyhow
  Lets talk about somebody like Eskimo
  Rentin they jewelry from Jacob and don't think we know
  You got a platinum piece but your chain is plain white gold
  After the video it got to go back to the store
  That's Crazy, talkin bout some shit you don't own
  Oughta be ashamed of yourself
  Yo, don't they call that frontin, holmes?
  You ain't Jigga, Nigga
  Nor can you spin like Puff
  And got a cash money deal
  So what's your Big Willy talk for?
  I get so excited man, your track got me leapin
  Then you start rhyming and *Yawn* I get sleepy
  
  [Chorus]
  
  [Hook]
  
  [Verse 3]
  It's a sad situation, record labels buggin out
  Cuz they star artist done ran out of shit to talk about (Whoa!)
  Yeah that's crazy and you think about it baby
  Only thing that changed in yo rhyme was ya date "2000"
  Oh that shit is hot, put that on the album
  You heard it with my man kick that shit (??)
  Loud and proud, nigga swear he be throwin down
  Arthur lose his voice every time he opens his mouth
  I oughta hold up a signs and boycott they ass right
  No more muthafuckin sound alikes!
  Sound-a-like (Mobb Deep!) Sound-a-like (Jay-Z!) Sound-a-like (B.I.G.!)
  And we don't need no more please!
  
  [Chorus]