| 作曲 : Carlisle, Johnson, Moore ... | |
| Yeeaah! This is | |
| DJ Seven Deuce, live at | |
| Club Runyan, where all girls with burgundy hair get in free. | |
| G-Unit in da house! | |
| What up baby. | |
| Performin' live tonight live on stage. . . | |
| Captain Save-'em-hoe,and the fabulous | |
| Case y'all. | |
| Stick 'em out y'all. | |
| All my Detroit playas, let's go![Kon Artis - Chorus] | |
| I ain't set the stroke and | |
| I ain't for games, | |
| I just came to fuck and maybe get some brain. | |
| I got a woman at the crib so | |
| I ain't your man. | |
| I'll be damned, | |
| I'll be damned, | |
| I'll be damned. | |
| You know all | |
| I really wanna do is fuck. | |
| I ain'tgon' let a money hungry women set me up. | |
| And if you think | |
| I'm that stupid you done pressed your luck. | |
| I'll be damned, | |
| I'll be damned, | |
| I'll be damned.[Kon Artis] | |
| You gave right. | |
| Yes I love monage-é-toisand | |
| I got drawers as big as guys's big "wah". | |
| I'm a trick daddy nigga, so bitch how you figurethat | |
| I wouldn't turn my niggas on to you when | |
| I hit ya.I probably could forget ya if | |
| I hadn't been drunk,but choke a dunkadunk, keep my mind on hump. | |
| When my mind's on hump to me my .9's in the trunk,and | |
| Denaun got a line for every fine bitch | |
| I hunt.Not once, twice, but three times the loverthat your man is, and | |
| I'm a freak undercover. | |
| I got plans for you, trick, | |
| I don't need a baby mother. | |
| I got five of them motherfuckers tryin' to smother me already. | |
| We can't go steady, but you can give me head. | |
| Give me that, get the hell out my bed, and leave the shit. | |
| My chap lips will cut nipples when breast fed,and on the way, leave the bread with | |
| Achman.I'd love for you to stay but | |
| I got another date,with a fat chick that eat cake on playskates. | |
| She rubbed my funky ass feet and feed me graceplus my man in the closet ran out of videotape.[Chorus][Swift] | |
| I'ma make this one thing clear,ain't no woman hear gon' ruin my career. | |
| All the hell you doin' is pursuin' a dream,that's when you find out that life ain't truly what it seems. | |
| All these hoes be lyin', bullshittin' each other. | |
| And why the hell | |
| Kobe Bryant didn't wear a rubber. | |
| He might as well have went and told the hoe that he love her. | |
| I'm sure as hell ain't gonna go to court for my mother,or my wife, and my sisters. | |
| So motherfuck a mistress. | |
| They signin' a contract before these bitches hit this. | |
| Never will a woman take me out that way. | |
| I keep a R | |
| CA camera in there motherfuckin' face.[Chorus][Bizarre] | |
| What's your name again? | |
| It doesn't matter. | |
| My name is | |
| Bizzy, a bodygaurd for | |
| Mr. Mathers. | |
| Sit down girl. | |
| Let me get you a drink. | |
| I'ma buy you a mink, and rape you in the sink. | |
| From day one, | |
| I knew you was a hoe. | |
| I put a rubber on my toe and fucked you some mo'. | |
| Turn around, let me see your nasty ass. | |
| Put on a Jason mask while | |
| I take off your maxi pads.[Kuniva] | |
| These hoes be on some bullshit. | |
| Always tryin' to pull shitoutta they ass. | |
| Get mad and put you on blast. | |
| Tell 'em bitches how she fucked you,sucked you, put it on you, boned you. | |
| Yappin' off with they mouth sayin' she loved you. | |
| All on your dick, callin' your phone, spazzin' and shit. | |
| Havin' a fit until you feel like callin' it quits. | |
| Then she starts callin' your chick,wantin' to fight. | |
| Everytime you show up at a gig,she front row with her friends. | |
| Flippin' you off. | |
| Follow you to the bar, the bathroom,the parkin' lot, to the car, pissin' you off. | |
| Until you blackout, now you and the hoe is havin a scrapout. | |
| You get locked up for assault and now you asked out.[Chorus] |
| zuo qu : Carlisle, Johnson, Moore ... | |
| Yeeaah! This is | |
| DJ Seven Deuce, live at | |
| Club Runyan, where all girls with burgundy hair get in free. | |
| GUnit in da house! | |
| What up baby. | |
| Performin' live tonight live on stage. . . | |
| Captain Save' emhoe, and the fabulous | |
| Case y' all. | |
| Stick ' em out y' all. | |
| All my Detroit playas, let' s go! Kon Artis Chorus | |
| I ain' t set the stroke and | |
| I ain' t for games, | |
| I just came to fuck and maybe get some brain. | |
| I got a woman at the crib so | |
| I ain' t your man. | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned. | |
| You know all | |
| I really wanna do is fuck. | |
| I ain' tgon' let a money hungry women set me up. | |
| And if you think | |
| I' m that stupid you done pressed your luck. | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned. Kon Artis | |
| You gave right. | |
| Yes I love monagee toisand | |
| I got drawers as big as guys' s big " wah". | |
| I' m a trick daddy nigga, so bitch how you figurethat | |
| I wouldn' t turn my niggas on to you when | |
| I hit ya. I probably could forget ya if | |
| I hadn' t been drunk, but choke a dunkadunk, keep my mind on hump. | |
| When my mind' s on hump to me my . 9' s in the trunk, and | |
| Denaun got a line for every fine bitch | |
| I hunt. Not once, twice, but three times the loverthat your man is, and | |
| I' m a freak undercover. | |
| I got plans for you, trick, | |
| I don' t need a baby mother. | |
| I got five of them motherfuckers tryin' to smother me already. | |
| We can' t go steady, but you can give me head. | |
| Give me that, get the hell out my bed, and leave the shit. | |
| My chap lips will cut nipples when breast fed, and on the way, leave the bread with | |
| Achman. I' d love for you to stay but | |
| I got another date, with a fat chick that eat cake on playskates. | |
| She rubbed my funky ass feet and feed me graceplus my man in the closet ran out of videotape. Chorus Swift | |
| I' ma make this one thing clear, ain' t no woman hear gon' ruin my career. | |
| All the hell you doin' is pursuin' a dream, that' s when you find out that life ain' t truly what it seems. | |
| All these hoes be lyin', bullshittin' each other. | |
| And why the hell | |
| Kobe Bryant didn' t wear a rubber. | |
| He might as well have went and told the hoe that he love her. | |
| I' m sure as hell ain' t gonna go to court for my mother, or my wife, and my sisters. | |
| So motherfuck a mistress. | |
| They signin' a contract before these bitches hit this. | |
| Never will a woman take me out that way. | |
| I keep a R | |
| CA camera in there motherfuckin' face. Chorus Bizarre | |
| What' s your name again? | |
| It doesn' t matter. | |
| My name is | |
| Bizzy, a bodygaurd for | |
| Mr. Mathers. | |
| Sit down girl. | |
| Let me get you a drink. | |
| I' ma buy you a mink, and rape you in the sink. | |
| From day one, | |
| I knew you was a hoe. | |
| I put a rubber on my toe and fucked you some mo'. | |
| Turn around, let me see your nasty ass. | |
| Put on a Jason mask while | |
| I take off your maxi pads. Kuniva | |
| These hoes be on some bullshit. | |
| Always tryin' to pull shitoutta they ass. | |
| Get mad and put you on blast. | |
| Tell ' em bitches how she fucked you, sucked you, put it on you, boned you. | |
| Yappin' off with they mouth sayin' she loved you. | |
| All on your dick, callin' your phone, spazzin' and shit. | |
| Havin' a fit until you feel like callin' it quits. | |
| Then she starts callin' your chick, wantin' to fight. | |
| Everytime you show up at a gig, she front row with her friends. | |
| Flippin' you off. | |
| Follow you to the bar, the bathroom, the parkin' lot, to the car, pissin' you off. | |
| Until you blackout, now you and the hoe is havin a scrapout. | |
| You get locked up for assault and now you asked out. Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Carlisle, Johnson, Moore ... | |
| Yeeaah! This is | |
| DJ Seven Deuce, live at | |
| Club Runyan, where all girls with burgundy hair get in free. | |
| GUnit in da house! | |
| What up baby. | |
| Performin' live tonight live on stage. . . | |
| Captain Save' emhoe, and the fabulous | |
| Case y' all. | |
| Stick ' em out y' all. | |
| All my Detroit playas, let' s go! Kon Artis Chorus | |
| I ain' t set the stroke and | |
| I ain' t for games, | |
| I just came to fuck and maybe get some brain. | |
| I got a woman at the crib so | |
| I ain' t your man. | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned. | |
| You know all | |
| I really wanna do is fuck. | |
| I ain' tgon' let a money hungry women set me up. | |
| And if you think | |
| I' m that stupid you done pressed your luck. | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned, | |
| I' ll be damned. Kon Artis | |
| You gave right. | |
| Yes I love monageé toisand | |
| I got drawers as big as guys' s big " wah". | |
| I' m a trick daddy nigga, so bitch how you figurethat | |
| I wouldn' t turn my niggas on to you when | |
| I hit ya. I probably could forget ya if | |
| I hadn' t been drunk, but choke a dunkadunk, keep my mind on hump. | |
| When my mind' s on hump to me my . 9' s in the trunk, and | |
| Denaun got a line for every fine bitch | |
| I hunt. Not once, twice, but three times the loverthat your man is, and | |
| I' m a freak undercover. | |
| I got plans for you, trick, | |
| I don' t need a baby mother. | |
| I got five of them motherfuckers tryin' to smother me already. | |
| We can' t go steady, but you can give me head. | |
| Give me that, get the hell out my bed, and leave the shit. | |
| My chap lips will cut nipples when breast fed, and on the way, leave the bread with | |
| Achman. I' d love for you to stay but | |
| I got another date, with a fat chick that eat cake on playskates. | |
| She rubbed my funky ass feet and feed me graceplus my man in the closet ran out of videotape. Chorus Swift | |
| I' ma make this one thing clear, ain' t no woman hear gon' ruin my career. | |
| All the hell you doin' is pursuin' a dream, that' s when you find out that life ain' t truly what it seems. | |
| All these hoes be lyin', bullshittin' each other. | |
| And why the hell | |
| Kobe Bryant didn' t wear a rubber. | |
| He might as well have went and told the hoe that he love her. | |
| I' m sure as hell ain' t gonna go to court for my mother, or my wife, and my sisters. | |
| So motherfuck a mistress. | |
| They signin' a contract before these bitches hit this. | |
| Never will a woman take me out that way. | |
| I keep a R | |
| CA camera in there motherfuckin' face. Chorus Bizarre | |
| What' s your name again? | |
| It doesn' t matter. | |
| My name is | |
| Bizzy, a bodygaurd for | |
| Mr. Mathers. | |
| Sit down girl. | |
| Let me get you a drink. | |
| I' ma buy you a mink, and rape you in the sink. | |
| From day one, | |
| I knew you was a hoe. | |
| I put a rubber on my toe and fucked you some mo'. | |
| Turn around, let me see your nasty ass. | |
| Put on a Jason mask while | |
| I take off your maxi pads. Kuniva | |
| These hoes be on some bullshit. | |
| Always tryin' to pull shitoutta they ass. | |
| Get mad and put you on blast. | |
| Tell ' em bitches how she fucked you, sucked you, put it on you, boned you. | |
| Yappin' off with they mouth sayin' she loved you. | |
| All on your dick, callin' your phone, spazzin' and shit. | |
| Havin' a fit until you feel like callin' it quits. | |
| Then she starts callin' your chick, wantin' to fight. | |
| Everytime you show up at a gig, she front row with her friends. | |
| Flippin' you off. | |
| Follow you to the bar, the bathroom, the parkin' lot, to the car, pissin' you off. | |
| Until you blackout, now you and the hoe is havin a scrapout. | |
| You get locked up for assault and now you asked out. Chorus |
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