Lyrics

[Verse 1: John Dough] For the record, Im'a bring the unexpected Neglected shit, that'll makes your moms wanna go out and select it Check it – the other day I heard pressure burst the pipe Musta been the night when I was out, coolin' with my wife "Stay in school and get a life," Is what I tried to tell 'em But I guess he said, "Fuck that! I'd rather be a felon Yellin' 'cream'," but at the same time I had a dream, I'm in his team Wouldn't have to stress a mother fucking thing You know the routine (Uh-huh) You seen it before (What?) One shot to your belly, blow your spleen through the door And that's all it takes, it makes me mad when Niggas say shit like this can't motherfuckin' happen The shit I'm rappin 'bout is fact Get rich, rock mics, and have your girl screaming, "Who the fuck is that?!" Dreadlock with the headlock, putting niggas on deadlock Fuck wit' me?! You bet' not John Dough – goddamn, I'm glad he came Motherfuckers sleeping on me, like my name was Daddy Kane And if that's the case (Uh-huh) – you're wasting your time And, on the low, your flow ain't worth a motherfucking dime [Verse 2: Diamond D] Niggas be like, "D be on some old throwback shit" I'll scoop your little birdie on some Bobby Womack shit The best you ever heard – fuck that, you know that shit Perpendicular to most, with the flow that's sick Lookin' sporty in the 740 (Aight) Put the G on a shorty Even if I'm tore down, from a 40 No advertisement, or chastisement The ice on my neck make the honey's eyes squint Every chance I get, from the stance I pick Flick your ass on the floor like a cancer stick No more jokes and games, I hope to claim I want boats and planes, ice ropes and chains When it pours it rains, so I'm weatherin' the storm Been away for three joints and still better than the norm Yo, I'm deep-rooted For this here, I be suited I do it to you all night, girl, when I be buddah'd Find out – have you screamin' "time out" Your big lover man, chillin' with the shine out Girl, I'll blow your mind out, we can wine-and-dine out Reclined on my system, Alpine'd out.. [Verse 3: John Doe] You ever heard a murder? The lyrical kind? Well, I got a rhyme that'll make a nigga shit a few times Hit a few dimes, but, um – never raw (What?) In '98 you wack motherfuckers better score (Score... score... score...) Or, feel the blast (Uh-huh) 'Cause John Dough's rhymes are tighter than a mosquito's ass Newsflash – John Dough and Diamond about to flex (Uh-huh) Plus we raw, like motherfuckin' unprotected sex [Verse 4: Diamond D] I'm tryin' to build a monopoly, Franklins on top of me I'll go to the roof, if 97 start rockin' me No stoppin' me, on the verge to blow And I–splurge the dough from the words I know From the true and living, bonafide top contender Not a pretender, I live my life in splendor Ugh – remember, I got the ill type phonetics You wack MC's sound pathetic (Pathetic... pathetic...)