Drop That Bitch

[Chorus]

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

[Verse 1: Kurupt]

In that muthafucka hanging

And she forever be singing

With that thing in the back

Make it backtrack, look up

It’s somewhat banging

When I pull up and bang that track

In the four

And it ain’t no stopping the show

L.A metropolis so

There just ain’t no stoppin’ when I hit that

Bomb head in my car

Got that bomb weed in my drawer

Got them bomb seeds in my garden

Valley Girl, Dolly Parton

If that shit don’t be poppin’

Got them dope fiends in Compton

Got my niggas rose and my bitches tho

These mothafuckas keep poppin’ molly

Broccoli in my pocket's pocket

Oxys and my pocket's brolic

Smoking heavy in my Impala chevy parking and

It's that gangsta instrumental

Original indo

For the hoes in sexy clothes

They nigga never touched the bank roll

Lemme get that

[Chorus]

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

[Verse 2: Schoolboy Q]

Ugly nigga with a gang of bitches

Hoover street nifty-fifty business

In my bitch whip with my L suspended

Big Pimpin’ misleading women

Extra innings being good at pitching

Blue khakis I’m locced out

Got naked hoes in a dope house

Put them hoes on a DVD

Show them hoes what this 'pimp bout

I’m pill poppin’

Feds is watchin’

I hopped the fence I don’t need Cochran

Clapped the DUI but my gun loaded

If my men made it then my men sold it

If the sun shine and that bitch [know it]?

Come holla at your young scholar

I’m top dog I’m Rottweiler

I gangbang and I spit lava

I drink brews and I make moves

I went so hard for these new shoes

I go so deep in her vocals

I lay it down on this Pro Tool

I'm real nigga, you so full

World tours, and you local

All you say this shit on the menu

Give me large fries and I’ll be cool

Put your hands down by your ankles

Make it clap for me for this bank roll

I’ll gladly poke on that pink hole

Front to leaves I'm straight backwoods

Hit my weed and I own you baby

Might buy you something, that head good

Now let me pinch on that donkey lady

[Chorus]

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

Drop that bitch, drop that bitch, drop that bitch

[Verse 3: Problem]

Whaaat

[just a beggar?] though

Kurt Angle way I play the rings

Chains on, the fames on

But I’m still good with that bada bing boy (what)

My foreign chicks love coming to America (what)

They go back like I never thought a problem with having me coming from America (what)

Blast off I smash off like vroom vroom

With a bitch as easy as Blues Clues

Dirty flow need two brooms

Diamond Lane everything

We hitting everything

Like we were juicing minute maid

Knock it out the park another homerun

Need I run home

Cali mind, play with mine nigga run home

Why you on the phone line while these niggas jump you

(What fool?) fuck you

No it isn't ever like that

But you saying that so you kinda make a nigga want to

Me off the wee-little

Bitch, I'mma bump

Then I'll fuck

Then I'll pump

[With a key full of pumps]?

I'm [up and]? off to the next

Compton the home of the chrome to your neck

Fuck all that, Fuck all that

Niggas tryna turn up one more time

Niggas thought I was done with the rapping

Fuck that I need one more line

Nick where you at? roll some more 5's

Shit to fly won't pass that up

Diamond lane gang

Diamond lane gang

Problem, Casha, and Bad Lucc

[Verse 4: Bad Lucc]

Hold up bruh don't forget the lucky

4 finger ring cause the squad is [rusty?]

Square can't touch me

Homicide on the track made [musty?]

Town aboriginal

Rap [?] like a field goal

I'mma show you where a mill go

Knocked out I still go

Hand me that jack uhh

Hit him with the right-left uhh

I'll plate none

You get the plat plat on

Send him on his ass like uh

Where you niggas from

With my crazy lady

Your baby momma look like she made to pay me

Shady baby

Spend a bank roll on the aces baby

You ain't getting money

Hey you crazy, lady

Bad luck with it I go

Fat nigga lookin like a billion I know

Rap nigga wanna bust head on the low

You rather take a train into a shower of snow

Fucking with your broad metals spitting about an o

I don't wanna keep it you can get it from the show

Feeling hella good, i'm just doing what i know

Gotta king open up your head full of dough

100 shots of that fireball

My hood got it covered like firewall

If a nigga bleep twice, then I'm lining y'all

But since you can't see my face, I'm not lying to y'all

Start the beef and I push the line

Diamond Lane, I'm from a different kind

I do what I want, nigga fuck the next line