Lyrics Fuhgidabowdit - Album Version (Edited) - Method Man , DMX , Redman , LL Cool J
Get
the
fuck
out
of
here,
I'm
LL
Cool
Soakin'
wet
with
bad
bitches
in
the
indoor
pool
Yo
what
am
i,
an
animal?
'Cause
I
bagged
your's
too
One
bad
mooley,
nigga
you
can't
school
me
I'm
the
G.O.A.T.,
what
I
wrote
cause
fire
and
smoke
To
think
I
started
on
the
choir
singin'
solo
for
the
pope
Tell
your
mama
please,
get
up
off
her
knees
You
can't
wear
yellow
spandex
with
a
ass
like
cottage
cheese
Open
toed
shoes,
feet
smell
like
collard
greens
Toes
Kriss
Krossed
like
she
on
J.
Dupri's
team
Bunyon
you're
sittin'
up
like
beach
balls
in
the
sand
plus
A
mouth
full
of
rotten
teeth
with
a
dildo
in
her
hand
Who
the
fuck
let
you
in,
all
my
assistants
are
fired
Now
I'm
lookin'
for
some
washed
up
rapper
that
I
can
hire
You
know
some
old
school
nigga
with
a
bit
of
attitude
Pay
him
$1500
to
fuck
a
girl
in
an
interlude
You
say
I'm
souped
up,
well,
soup
is
good
food
So
what
I
scratch
my
nuts,
HOW
THE
FUCK
IS
THAT
RUDE?
For
soul
glowin,
afro
pickin'
S-curl
hatin',
Jamaican
rum
sippin'
Kid
I'll
burp
on
your
girl
buttcheeks
'Cause
honey
had
my
nuts
like
two
red
beets
I'm
bananas,
out
of
my
fuckin
mind
they
won't
let
me
back
in
'Cause
I
was
down
before
the
hype
like
Dusty
Rhodes
and
Bob
Backlund
Bruno
Samartino,
Stan
Staziak
Now
The
Rock
and
Stone
Cold
are
my
favorite
maniacs
The
top
rooster
pluckin',
chickens
when
I'm
cluckin'
WWF
stands
for
When
and
Where
we
Fuckin
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo
kid
Fuhgidabowdit
Fuhgidabowdit,
uh
Yo,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo,
ey,
Fuhgidabowdit
Ey,
ey,
Fuhgidabowdit
Eh,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo,
yo,
yo,
yo,
yo,
yo
I'm
like
Menace
II
Society
I
roll
through
the
drive-thru
like
Kane
Jack
you
for
the
cheeseburgers
and
chicken
wings,
and
Daytons
too
See
my
boys
down
the
ride
crack
patience
too
Bricks,
walk
around,
snorkel
down
Macaroni
and
cheese
Timbs
broke
out
the
orphan
house
Transportin
out,
the
poison
in
'em
Box
'em
up
in
the
aisle
with
the
frozen
dinners
And
them
niggas
that
ran...
My
goal's
to
get
'em
With
the
heat
seekin'
flow
with,
fo'
antennas
Doc's
Da
Name,
that's
why
y'all
fuck
with
me
I'm
pocket
change,
the
bums
don't
fuck
with
D
Objective
in
'em,
Carlo
inspection
sticka
Check
the
pen,
I
write
like
a
X
was
in
'em
Teeth
grittin',
I
brawl
with
a
major
league
mitten
Where
the
stash
at,
punk?
Yo,
yo,
and
he
takin
me
with
him
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo,
Fuhgidabowdit
Ayo
nigga,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo,
yo,
yo,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo
dog,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo
you
heard,
Fuhgidabowdit
Ayo
you
hear
me,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo
nigga,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo,
this
be
a
Cool
J
function,
music
get
my
blood
pumpin'
Down
for
whatever,
which
usually
means
I'm
up
to
somethin'
Who
owe
me
somethin',
them
niggas
in
the
back
frontin'
They
rockin'
cuffs
and,
put
the
eight
up,
repercussion
You
know
my
name,
so
there's
no
need
for
introduction
I'm
Mr.
Done
it
all,
so
none
of
y'all
can
do
me
nothing
Bitch
I'm
grown,
puffin
on
that
one
and
bone
Bet
me
and
Queen
Bee
be
swingin'
'til
the
honey
come
Backs
get
blown,
trash
get
thrown
In
headlocks,
from
this
view,
I'm
fuckin
Star
Jones
I'm
red
hot
just
like
candy,
in
'95
won
the
Grammy
Yo,
he
use
it
as
an
ashtray
now
Niggas
can't
stand
or
understand
me,
yeah
Either
or,
funky
headhunter
wild
comanchees
with
shitty
draws
What's
that
shit,
what
shit,
that
shit
on
your
lip
I
can't
smoke
with
ya
kid,
but
I'll
save
ya
the
clip...
Fuhgidabowdit
Ayo
nigga,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo,
what
the
fuck,
Fuhgidabowdit
Yo,
Fuhgidabowdit
Uh,
Fuhgidabowdit
Ayo
dog,
Fuhgidabowdit
Bitches
can't
stand
me,
Fuhgidabowdit
Still
pullin'
down
her
panties,
Fuhgidabowdit
The
shit
I
see
every
day
brings
tears
to
my
eyes
How
I
holla
at
my
niggas
brings
ears
to
my
cries
Stick
niggas
for
not
knowin',
then
teach
'em
somethin'
Bitch
niggas
talki'
'bout
you
from
the
streets
you
frontin'
I
never
liked
you,
and
you,
I
don't
know
So
what
the
fuck
you
think
is
'sposed
to
happen,
we
gon
go
Mano
a
mano,
whatever
nigga,
I'm
gon
dust
you
If
you
can't
take
that
ass
whoopin',
I'm
gon'
bust
you
Talkin
to
you
like
a
lil
nigga
'cause
you
is
But
don't
forget
that
daddy's
gonna
always
love
his
kids
Faggot
niggas
got
the
nerve
to
wan'
know
why
I
rob
You
guys
are
livin'
phat
while
everybody
else'll
starve!
That
pretty
shit
is
lame,
fuck
what
your
name
hold
Break
a
nigga
off
somethin',
watch
a
nigga
gain
fo'
Now
you
layin
somewhere
cold,
stiff
as
shit
And
all
that
riffin'
shit,
mens
will
get
you
hit,
bitch
Fuhgidabowdit
Fuhgidabowdit
Album
G. O. A. T. Featuring James T. Smith: The Greatest Of All Time (Edited Version)
date of release
05-09-2000
1 Ill Bomb - Album Version (Edited)
2 Intro - Album Version (Edited)
3 Imagine That - Album Version (Edited)
4 Take It Off - Album Version (Edited)
5 Fuhgidabowdit - Album Version (Edited)
6 Farmers - Album Version (Edited)
7 This Is Us - Album Version (Edited)
8 Can't Think - Album Version (Edited)
9 Hello - Album Version (Edited)
10 You And Me - Album Version (Edited)
11 Homicide - Album Version (Edited)
12 The G.O.A.T. - Album Version (Edited)
13 M.I.S.S. I - Album Version (Edited)
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