No Doubt

I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)

Listen to me get busy on this track, big shots to Kenny Parker
It sparked ya, marked ya, son, you's marked for death
You gots to be more man than Meth to fuck with
Heather B, be breakin' down styles quite simply
You're causin' me, hold up, wait, bitches is forcin' me
To show that I'm the ruggeder, I keep 'em turnin' yellow-er

See me, say to yourself, "I can't fuck with her"
My rowdy knockers got all things covered
What? Pick that time and that spot and we'll meet up
I'm leavin' bitches beat up, tell your knocker roll his weed up
'Cause I'm yankin' all you ass-stankin' shorties

By your teeth, so keep your comments brief
The "Lord have mercys" and the "Oh my Gods" plus the "pleases"
You'll be sayin' to your Jesus when my rhyme style releases

So trick or lick a dick up, go find some fuckin' work
'Cause the only thing you gon' get around here is hurt
No doubt

I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)

Y'all remember "Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang"
Well, now knockers holler "Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang"
This be a Jersey thang-thang, nothin' but street slang
Nothin' but blunts hang from the lips of this lyricist
You try and diss, it's a mistake, but I'll excuse you
Lose you, defuse you if you claim to be the bomb
Y'all corny mother-effers and y'all slick-talkin' heifers
Y'all uppers and y'all lower lips need sewin' together
Y'all talk more shit than Al Sharpton when the mic on
In person, you's a bitch with tight white panties on

Bitch-ass, trick-ass, you can't rhyme
Prepare me for takeoff, I'm leavin' niggas flatlined

I came with that eeny-meeny-miny-moe
And caught a sleepin' rapper by the toe
I'm undisguised, you recognize me
In the black jacket and boots made by Polo
A sister that be rockin' solo

Over thorough-ass Bo tone flows
With the two-followed-by-three-zeros
In 2000, I ain't checkin' for no heroes
I just wanna sit back and count mad dinero
And have the CREAM comin' from my rear, yo
I speak crystal clear so I know that you heard me

Heather B be the one hollerin' Jersey

Chilltown up in this piece
And the Coast be the motherfuckin' East
No doubt

I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
No doubt
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)

I wanna be more Illmatic than Nas

And have bitches breakin' and what-notin' and maydayin' like Das
EFX, I set, then set off, then reset
Your whole sound set, your rhyme cipher or your blunt set
Shit, why you stressin' me, ock? What I do to you?

Nothin' gon' stop the rowdy pack from puttin' tools to you
Baggy Guess wearers, ass-tearers by the frame
Gettin' ass to ass and smokin' ganja by the basket
Rowdy bastards, we better batter up
It's time to leave more bodies splattered up, let's gather up
Round up Janet, TK and Big Mal
Grab a Phillie and a touch of the Invincible White Out
We gon' burn on three different crews from three different hoods

I don't know who lied and told you it was all good

Not around here and that's word
Leavin' teeth on the corner and ass on the curb
No doubt

I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
No doubt
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)
I fuck around and get hardcore (Hardcore)