I Might Be Wrong

[Chorus: Hopsin]

These hoes go crazy, when they see me pull up (You know)

Tryna strip my money, but I can be wrong, I might be wrong (Yeah)

Throw your dubs up for a Westcoast player

The way we stuntin' on your hoes, it's just no fair

What up bitch, keep the blunt lit

Tell 'em we run this

[Verse 1: Hopsin]

I'm ruthless, but hit the club feeling so restless

Reckless, y'all forgot to put me on the guest-list

F this, I don't need the club, shit I'm cooling up

Watch me pull the next dime piece I see pulling up (Ayy ho)

Still raw when I rappin' on the mic

Catch me actin' up mashin', prolly macking on your wife

Gimme your nasty hoest dyke, who look gaggin' on the pipe

But they tryna set me up, like my ass was Obie Trice (Shit)

A lotta hoes are known for game, shit they'll blow your brain ([?])

They have you give them cash, nice whips and the whole shebang (Bang)

It's a sunny day, bitch, it ain't supposed to rain

Now bend over like the hunchback and ultradian

I'm an asshole as rascal

We be pulling mad hoes and fucking 'em 'til they back broke

Then hit the studio and crack jokes

Maybe smash flows, I spit the fire until the track smoke (Come on)

[Chorus: Hopsin]

These hoes go crazy, when they see me pull up (You know)

Tryna strip my money, but I can be wrong, I might be wrong (Yeah)

Throw your dubs up for a Westcoast player

The way we stuntin' on your hoes, it's just no fair

What up bitch, keep the blunt lit

Tell 'em we run this

[Interlude]

Check it out baby, this what I want you to do

[Verse 2]

Put me in the G-P-S navigation

You're the location, I'm your destination

Call the Crustaceans and a make a reservation

The radio station, playing this dedication

Back to back in rotation, live syndication

Tonight this is celebration, no limitation

No expectations, no indications

Little conversations, smoke inhalation

Slow installation, don't rush the situation

We got all night (All night), I'ma do it right (Do it right)

I'ma keep working at it, 'til I get it right

I'ma buss it wide open if the suit tight

[Chorus: Hopsin]

These hoes go crazy, when they see me pull up (You know)

Tryna strip my money, but I can be wrong, I might be wrong (Yeah)

Throw your dubs up for a Westcoast player

The way we stuntin' on your hoes, it's just no fair

What up bitch, keep the blunt lit

Tell 'em we (Good God, good God)