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!