2000

[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!)