You Do, I Do

Ha, yo, this ain't nothin' but rough shit, yo
I don't think y'all niggas can keep up with this
Fuck all you motherfuckers
Fuck y'all
I don't think they can get with it
It's too much shit goin' on

Ayo, I was chillin' up, hoomp dog deluxe
Rockin', donning a G with the rooftop cut
I'm a grown man, don't got no time for games and stuff
I got balls that'll beat you all in twenty-one rough
Look at my face, Doc's the name, don't forget it
I make Jamaicans scream, "Bow!" like my name's Riddick
I get sick with it, read dick with it
I had a nine-inch slugger before your stank bitch bit it
I bet a clip of crack that y'all cats is wack
Abrasive to Ajax, so send that through fax
Reservoir, Zsa Zsa Gabor when I was four
Explore whores when Ra came through the door
You never seen before, live to your hood
My stage shows leave niggas vexed like rosewood
When I drop the filth, whether big or built
A dog fuck the shit out a bitch off Tiger Milk

You drinkin', I'm drinkin'
You smokin', I'm smokin'
You freakin', I'm freakin'
You fuckin', we fuckin'
You fucked up, we fucked up
We make it, we take it
You hate me, I hate you
You talk shit, I talk shit

In the flesh, I be the E, countin' mounds of cash
Not many baller niggas out there can touch my stash
Or touch the S-Class, the 5-double-0
Sittin' on Pirellis, chrome, the big 2-0
Catch the picture, my whole rap steez is deep
For all you fake dudes, I'm the only show to peep
Last week, I was uptown, playin' the streets
Stop upon one-five-fifth to get (Buddah)
That's what I do when I roll dolo, I call a bitch
Most the time, if I ain't doin' that, I ain't doin' shit
I might go to the studio and make a hit
Or call my baby's moms, and hear her talk shit
I scoot by, get my kids, niggas, please
We hit Toys "R" Us and then Mickey D's
And go to a movie to end the day
And talk to 'em and take 'em back around the way
And that's real

You drinkin', I'm drinkin'
You smokin', I'm smokin'
You freakin', I'm freakin'
You fuckin', we fuckin'
You fucked up, we fucked up
We make it, we take it
You hate me, I hate you
You talk shit, I talk shit

Well, it's the fly Gemini, meat and potato, cut and dry type of guy
Well known but still just gettin' by
And I verify mathematics don't lie, nigga
Put in some work and get a piece of the pie
It be the niggas that don't immediate pertain to the situation
That be tryna come up off the chips that niggas makin'
And always worried if I'ma diss you
You insecure bitch, and to the government, stay out my shit
Niggas was glad when I came with the keys to the chains
To the cell blocks, to the stage, now it's time to rock
I return like I never left, D-E-F
Got the whole world gaspin' for breath
We got these hoes spreaded out like mustard
I asked Flavor and Chuck, they said, "Yo, don't trust it"
No, no, no, no

We're back on WDEF
And now we're taking calls from our listeners
Caller number one, you're on the line
This is Monisha, and Reggie left his shit at my house last night
Nah, bitch, don't call here with that shit
Reggie got plenty fuckin' hoes
And he probably left somethin' at they house last night too
Get a life, bitch
Next caller
Yo, what up? This Debra callin' from East Point, Georgia
And I just wanna let you know that when
Eric down here, he be trickin' too
And I got a baby by him, so he is my baby daddy
Girl, you and how many other tramps?
Get a life, bitch
Can we get the last caller on the line?
Yeah, uh, this is Michael Taylor, attorney at law
Calling in reference to an incident occurring
At Mr. Keith Murray's last performance
My client wishes to press charges
I need to speak to someone about his whereabouts
Yeah, aight, speak to my friend Tone