(feat. Spice-1, Too $hort) [Too $hort talking (D-Shot)] (D-shot) Yeah that's right. Too Sheezie in the house. (Let's get that money man.) Uh I'm all
Who dared? A motherfucker from the west coast L.A. south central fool Where the crips and the bloods play When I wrote about parties it didn't fit Six
(intro) Yeah,Syndicate's in the house Yeah,Geto Boys in the house Yeah,Donald D's in the house Yeah,Body count's in the house Yeah,Zulu Nation's in the
hoez down like a gentlemen club bouncer Ounce of killa dilla, be makin' my game more flagrant And once I done had some cuervo 'bout six shots I'm nothin
PCP fiends, jumpin off cliffs And if you had the balls, you'd be walkin off stiff My paragraph alone is worth five mics (uh-huh) A twelve song LP, that's thirty-six
block, when I'm passin' through I bust six, in the air nigga, just for you And if I ever get caught sleepin', which I ever doubt would happen I'd be the
niggas get real ugly Trust me, keep your four if you feel lucky Mug me, I ain't got nothin' but four figures And weed and hash chopped in the coffee blender My shots
mind about ten times Sure, we was just kids back then I had no remorse for what we did back then Six of us, one call, we'd all pack in Hit the strip
in them rented cars So it was even harder to find him so they figured They'd go to the D tomorrow and surprise him Did they kill him? "Nah, they only shot
nigga goes to war What you think I brought these soldiers for? To send shot like forget me not, at any nigga Respect, bitch, that figure they gon' get
cause Tony for the stallin And all I see is $ signs, here's the bottom line either Give up the product or get shot up with a brolic 9 Invest figures to
six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz Make lightnin' flash across the sky every time I curse Six-hundred and sixty-six flashes Give out six-hundred and sixty-six
up mami's on my balls Y?all can?t figure the great one, sheek be jason not cops But that legendary nigga my pops I bust shots like bums at a bar but
Tony for the stallin And all I see is $ signs, here's the bottom line either Give up the product or get shot up with a brolic 9 Invest figures to address
own zone, Motorola flip-phone The infrared on the Giorgio Armani specs Blowin' tecs at the opposite sex For the six-figure check, my slug injects When
fiends, jumpin off cliffs And if you had the balls, you'd be walkin off stiff My paragraph alone is worth five mics (uh-huh) A twelve song LP, that's thirty-six
(I gotta be out) Yo, yo This where my shit stops I turned around, surrounded by six cops Put the clip in my sig got six shots They made my skull almost
