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Off The Hook
I'm rollin' ninety down the block smokin' indo
I'm gettin' cloudy so I'm rollin down the window
Release the fog through the vents now I'm merinatin'
This fool rolls up next to me and starts playa hatin'
I hit the juice, hit the switch, and like a bunny hoppin'
2-4 dash 7, 3-6-5 with me there ain't no stoppin'
But he was bad and he got mad because his girl was jockin'
And so I had to whoop his ass these boots was made for stompin'
That was handled I mean handled but without the trigga
'Cuz I'm not stupid even though I'm not a crazy wigga
Can't trust that hoe even though she left the scene with me
'Cuz I'm that gangsta like my name was S-P-I-C-E
One young gun havin' hella fun
There ain't no stoppin me because I've just begun
And you can see me in Simi soakin' up the sunshine
Hittin' number one spots, see me in the headlines
Off the Hook fool back up
We Shadow Figures don't act up
Why are we so bold you ask us
We love it when we see our money stack up
Crazy like a clown on crack I'm back
Wit' a sack of balloon animals in my lap
Picture that, scarin' lil' kids on the street
Feel the heat I need to find somethin' to eat
Starvin', messy Marvin, leave a motha fuckin' mess
No food up in my stomach, put this liquor to the test
No stress, I'm gettin' dizzy and I feel the up-chuck
I better sit down and sip some 7-up
Because I'm perved n', swervin', mentally disturbed n'
I might be a vet., but I'm still learnin'
And I'm the man because I say I am
Chop n' fry you up like your name was Spam
(the other white meat) Saute in a skillet
And while you marinatin' ask your girl if she feel it
'Cuz I'm her baby daddy, though she swears that it's you
Now how could that be true, you was locked up fool
But don't get mad, just go do the math
Subtract and then add, or check the prints on her ass -I dash-
To the liquor store for a 4-0
King Cobra and a 5th of So. Co.
Hell no I won't get tore up
Get so damn tipsy that I start to throw up (ha ha)
That's for the weak fools that can't hold their liquor
I'm the one marinatin' with my breath getting thicka, the wigga
Godfather known for layin' plans down
Put your number on the table motha fucka hands down
(chorus)
Tell me flat, why is that, you sayin' that I'm hatin' you
Breakin' you, save that shit you know that I be makin' you
I'm not a playa hater, fool now tell me what is it
Because without me you only makin' double didgets
I be makin' six figures, cold cash makes you shiver
Make you quiver with the tight ass rhymes that I deliver
And I see through you like glass, so you can kiss my ass
You know you got no class, so your life is ending fast
From the blast of the sawed off, double up shotgun
Actin' hella dumb fuckin' around without no "dumcums"
Condoms, you sickly fuck, you know you got the "HIV"
Half dead, skinny wigga talkin' 'bout your game is live
But I got no love for fools who didn't pay dues
Try to break all the rules rollin' with your fake crews
I know you hit the snooze, you don't wanna wake up
But I'll crumble you like the weed I'm about to break up
Take a hit, (puff puff), you can't hit this shit
Didn't even hit your lips and your lungs done quit
Now watch me dip because you can't fase me
The loked out Lil' T, roughneck from the streets
Don't question if it's real 'cuz it's a fact
We can scrap, bust caps if it's like that
Still you wanna test your skills 'cuz you think your hot
Well then hit me at the spot n' show me what you got
(chorus)
©2001 Lil' T Studios