2000

Lyrics
[Intro] Yeah, bleep bleep bleep Hey yo this is how we gonna hit it off... [Hook] So drop the Cronkite nigga (2000!) Check out how we flip shit for (2000!) Stud Doogie runnin' shit for (2000!) Grand Puba flippin' shit for (2000!) [Verse 1] Here comes the brotha from the future Man, I got what suits ya Fake mc's go away and let your label prostitute ya Give me my space and let the swinger swing Nigga don't you know that Jane can't even stop this crazy thang I like to boast cause I'm the host with the most Bag a few honeys and I'm... (Space Ghost!) I got niggas head-bobbin' with no problem I kick 31 flavors so call me Baskin Robbins, uhh I gets down cause I travel like sound Grand Puba's so fast they got my picture on a Greyhound Here goes the tizm, get ya lifted like izm If these devils ain't got my money then I guess I'm goin' off to prison So honey here's more than a rent For dollars and sense, see I leave shit bent So don't even come with that 69, hon Cause I told ya last time, 68 and I owe ya one Back up and let Puba do his thing Cause a nigga wanna crib like Eddie Murphy had in Boomerang So butt niggas get the steppin' I gets to the root like beer Lyrics flow like an automatic weapon You can't see this or much greater Rough like Terminator, sendin' niggas down like elevators So like Beavis and Butthead...(he he he he) Go away like 94, we drop the Cronkite nigga [Hook] So drop the Cronkite nigga (2000!) Check out how we flip shit for (2000!) Stud Doogie runnin' shit for (2000!) Grand Puba flippin' shit for (2000!) [Verse 2] No shame in the game I puts the pedal to the metal Be a father to my son, ask the Bulldogs and Ed O Puba gots that shit that hits in every ghetto Straight from New York, L.A. to Soweto Honey, there's no need to hunt Whatever you want, just make sure when you come you bring a blunt This is for the year 2-circle-circle-circle Niggas lookin' stupid like it's Friday and they Urkel Did I say that? Doogie hits the scratch Niggas can't match, baggin' booties by the batch That's how we do at a theater near you Do the show, bag the dough and disappear like the zoo Then I hit home, to rest my dome Unplug the phone and put a joint on the bone I kick the style longtime ya know Niggas can't see this, so you know how that shit goes Nigga it's gonna take a miracle Call me a cab so I can Cal-a-way and catch your hi-di-hi-di-ho Fuck that, my style's all that and a bag of snacks Ran through Josie and her pussycat I'm the Scooby with the Doo I like my philly with the brew All y'all niggas talkin' shit about Puba: fuck you! Ya know what you can do? You can lick the twins when I pull 'em outta skins And I put 'em in your face, you can tell me how it tastes Cause it's the Cronkite, nigga [Hook] So drop the Cronkite nigga (2000!) Check out how we flip shit for (2000!) Stud Doogie runnin' shit for (2000!) Grand Puba flippin' shit for (2000!)
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Credits
- Writers
- Grand Puba
- Lord Finesse