[Pimp C:]
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One with a trigger, two with a bat
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Three big brothers, fo' - wanna squab with me
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So I guess a brother gotta throw
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Tell 'em like this, ya better get up out my camp dude
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Befo' I have to pull my gat and get, real rude
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I don't figure that it's worth gettin hurt
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Just 'cause ya gal wanna give me that skirt
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Bet it feels funny when ya doin 69
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Knowin that ya sippin on all my jimmy wine
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And when ya get a kiss, do ya feel bad
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Knowin that ya swallowed all the skeeter that I had?
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You wanna step to me but I don't really think ya should
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I shoulda shot you up instead I told ya somethin good
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[Chorus: sampled from Chaka Khan & Rufus' "Something Good"]
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TELL me something GOOD (Ohhh, baby, baby, baby yeah)
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TELL me something GOOD (Oh yeaaaaah... yeah)
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Tell-TELL me something GOOD (Ohhhhhhh-HOO!, tell me, tell me...)
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TELL me something GOOD (Ohhh, baby, baby, baby yeah)
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[Bun B:]
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Aiyyo, what's up with that bulge in ya khakis?
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You wanna pack a gat, but you STILL ain't got the pull to come and jack me
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You betta bring a gangload of homies when you think you wanna throw
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Cause by yourself, you're runnin to the flo'
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I seen your kind befo', man ya nothin with your hands
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More than a punk but still less than a man
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You talk a lot of nothin when ya chillin with the ladies
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Let me catch ya by yourself, you're pushin up some daisies
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See crazy you wanna be, but punks with no heart, they ain't hard
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They just waitin for Bun to pull they card
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You betta keep your weak self locked in ya hood
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Cause without your boys I'm a have to tell ya somethin good
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[Chorus]
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(Ohhhhhhh-HOO!)
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[Pimp C:]
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Brothers nowadays got a habit that they really need to stop
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Gettin all shot over a girl that I done popped
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You need to check ya girl and what she did in the past
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Cause if you know like me, you would drop her REAL fast
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But I don't trust the dugout, cause I'm scared of that disease
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Cause she's passin' out the skinz like government cheese
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But not me player, cause Pimp C wanna live
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Have you had your test? Are you H-I positive?
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But instead of gettin checked you wanna fight with me
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You need to check ya blood and let somebody check your teeth
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But if you don't step, I'm a drop on ya fast
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And pump off bullets like government cash
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I didn't do ya girl but your sister was alright
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Took her to my homeboy's Caddy last night [girl moaning in the background]
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She waxed my jimmy, and then the little street tramp
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Did me on a box of tens and a Pioneer amp
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I hit if from the back, and the girl just THREW ME
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Told me, "Pump it harder," and she scratched me on my BOOTY
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Now everybody in the world
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Know that your sister is a nasty lil' girl
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[Chorus 1/2]
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[Bun B:]
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Let's talk about these half-n-half punks
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By day they sorry bastards, at night they talkin bout, poppin trunks
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Butter .25 can't keep you alive
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From a sawed-off, fool so I hope you survive
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See bluffin might save ya tail one day
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But who's ta say, it won't catch ya next week, on the runway?
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You might shoot a few shots in the wind
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But the same time tomorrow, you'll be runnin again
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Now can you keep it up, every damn night?
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You steady runnin to the argument but runnin from the fight
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What's the deal man? Why don't you take your Raiders cap off?
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Cause one of these days, you gonna getcha head slapped off
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You cain't keep a crew cause they gettin sick of seein you bail
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Like a punk'll hit the backstreet trail
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And the women don't like you cause ya act like them
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And that's why your little jimmy never went fo' a swim
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Ya talk about slangin, makin G's
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But I saw a fiend chase ya from, BJ's up to Mickey D's
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Now everyday punks get took
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Either for they dough, they'll ride 'em for the powder that they cook
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You bookin from the scene cause ya couldn't hold ya own
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A 40 ounce bottle slams, ya dead to your dome
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Now you want revenge, so ya get your automatic
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Find a group of hard-heads, and startin kickin static
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Ya pulled ya little chrome but these fools got gats
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Try to run and caught two buckshots in ya back
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Now you nothin but a memory that's gone in a slayin
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So when I tell you |