Weesom Hustlas

[Verse 1: Shock G & Money B] Knick-knack paddy whack, give a groupie a bone Then after that I give her cab fare home I can’t stop, I guess I’m not finished yet You say I’m not the Shock, man Y’all don’t know me yet? The piano-player rapper from the Digital set Put the satin on your girl then I get her all wet She’s intrigued by the way that I do my thing (Do what thing?) I touch her organ with a chord and make it sing I have the capability to mack at will Relax, put it all on a bitch to get skrill (Mon keeps on pimpin’) I’m never giving ‘em scratch Smack me? Imagine that I get goosebumps when the bassline thumps Then I’m serving them raw, no publicity stunts I consider myself better than average Yo, I rock the mic, but only for cabbage [Hook] Cause weesome hustlas [Verse 2: Humpty Hump, Shock G, Money B, Shock G & Money B] I need a Subway sandwich Yes, I want the pan switched I saw you digging but you didn’t wash your hand, bitch You gettin’ a five piece, son, you think your dad’s rich? Fast food generation, grease doing damage Emcees, you’re not 2Pac You look tired, go back to selling rocks ‘Cause in the end, do you care about the nameless? ‘Cause if not, you're just a wannabe famous I’m from the O.A.K. in the Golden State Making moves like chess, niggas be a mess Wear a vest 'cause young bucks might run up For the come up, put two in your stomach But nevertheless I’m so V.I.P To those that’s unaware, you can’t fuck with me Cause M.B stand from Mack a Bitch proper And the capital M capital O, N-E-Y Not, let your chick choose, you can’t stop her No need to get ill, niggas a bust up your grill There’s two things to check out, the words we sayin’ Plus listen to the MP' playing The remake, original by Erick Sermon And the Parrish Smith slow flow Got the spot burning Emcees, let me show you how you sound Look at the money that I’m holding down I’m rich, I’m rich, MTV'll give you credit But keep it up and BET'll say forget it! [Hook] Cause weesome hustlas [Chorus] Get down, get down Time keep on slippin’ Get down, get down We gettin’ down (Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra Get down Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra) Get down, get down This clowns keep on trippin’ (trippin’) Get down, get down (Get down) We gettin’ down (Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra) [Verse 3: Money B, Shock G, Humpty Hump] Praying like a prey when the fox in action I’m in the club, time to make it happen Camouflage give her more, my cap is off (Mh) Plus I be Talkin’ Dirty After Dark My eyes closed like Steve Austin, you sittin’ with a square I can’t let you dear, naw, that ain’t fair So I turns up my pimpin’, then pop my collar Slide up on the breezy, say "Hmm I got her" By now emcees you should be noddin’ your head My flow is hungry ‘cause it hadn’t been fed The process of my graduation was quite simple Started out as a black head, went pop like a pimple Got the head like lettuce, let her toss my salad Had to block the kisses ‘cause her breath was invalid But Humpty, stands for cold party doctor The capital H, capital U, capital M-P-T-Y no doubt The chief party rocker The A.K.A (Capital A, capital K, capital S, H, O, C, K Capital G...Capital D...U...the Digital Underground) You said you seen me talkin’ on VH1 About that one bright fella and how it all begun Now that you know, you need to come bust one Get up in the show, help us get it crunk son You can follow me, fellow, every move that I make I’m strong, I’m peaceful, I’m fair and I don’t flake So ring the alarm ‘cause that what’s really goin’ on And here’s my business card, visit ShockG.com M-o-n-e-y B, the Thrilla in Manila AKA Absolut ‘n Cran chiller Money B is drunk, baby let’s get it crunkin’ I beat it up like you owe me somethin’ When I walk through the crowd, I see chicks grinning I hear voices sayin’ that‘s M-o-n and Not only from the women but from the bros But nigga, I’m tryna fuck with these hoes When I’m up the in club, you’ll notice one thing I got bounce, no static, no bling I’m like the bounty hunter The hooker picker-upper Tell you up front, the judge is gonna be a sucker Like Attica, we ain’t tryna be in it But if the beat got heat Dialect might spin it D’s spinnin', cashin’ them checks From doing shows until there’s no dough left ‘Cause weesome hustlas!