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1. |
| 4:05 | 
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(feat. Mausberg)
(Quik - Talking) Wow, for real though We need something just a little bit different Ya know, it's a whole lot goin on right now But y'all can calm down though, y'all can 'Cause we 'bout to change the game Can you feel that? If you really wanna change the game let me hear ya say 'ohh yeah' Haha, I just had to do that once Ay, T-P-T style Jumpin up outta the Burb', park mode And 18 inches from the curb While I'm smellin them stanky stenches from the herb Red-eyed flight, and I'm lookin for my red-eyed homie Black Tone, 'cause I said I might Just hafta pass through, and let 'em hear some shit that's pretty fat From Spade Ty to King Tee, this is where it's at Nigga, makin million dollar deals at a checker table And my nephews gonna be the youngest niggas with a record label I'm the only nigga that promised to show up with more talent than any nigga and I didn't wanna blow up I shine like glitter 'cause I'm natural If on the first night I hit, then that's a hoe And I gotta stay away You can never by mine your nigga he got you on layaway Bitch, we 'bout to change the game (Hook - Quik & James Debarge) Ha ha, feel me, as we change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) One time, let me, just change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) It ain't about ya money nigga change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) It ain't about ya pussy hoe change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) C'mon, well uh, we need to change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Keep it real nigga, change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Ya gotta do it nigga, change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Uh, check it out (CHANGE THE GAME) (Quik) Can I get a Rum and Coke? 'Cause the Keith smoke made a nigga hum and choke Blazed and dazed Now put me on the stage and I'll change the game in major ways Gettin wild like a buckin horse With enough momentum to change the whole muthafuckin course All I need nigga, is a crew and a point And I'll make a statement only on a brew and a joint No joke, 'cause growin up dirty, hungry and broke Don't mean I gotta be dirty, hungry and broke Dude I made a way out a no way, and y'all can too 'Cause it's a whole lotta legal shit that y'all can do And fuck the media, keep on steppin, yeah I said it Where your pass at? Who you know here? Where you headed? Only show us when we doin bad When we in the mud I brake that muthafuckin camera Now fuck them niggas We 'bout to change the game (Hook - Quik & James Debarge) Hell yeah, let 'em know we finna change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Pardon me for bein mad but I'm changin the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Yeah, and that's the real shit, changin the game (CHANGE THE GAME) I'm tired of the stressin, nigga changin the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Can't touch it, learn a lesson nigga, change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Stop fuckin up the music nigga, change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Don't play with it nigga use it, change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) Mausberg, my nigga help me change the game (CHANGE THE GAME) (Mausberg) Sheppard Lane, ???, dog we the realest Hit the game wit a twist, now they label us the illest More advanced than that wack nigga punchin a Lex After Balance & Option, I'ma show ya who's next Ain't no room in the court for cowards who can't ride Ate up the dick, left the balls on the side 'Bout to take a trip to Neptune, everybody wanna roll If you ain't loyal to the camp, nigga hell no We about to change the game in many ways Dollar signs, attitudes, dog in a real way Condos to sky scrapers with my name on it Desk, big C-E-O, rider from the Black Tek If it wasn't for Dave, lookin out Your nigga Johnny, be on the corner lookin burnt out That's what it pays to appreciate thangs Put a nigga in position to change the whole game (Hook - Mausberg & James Debarge) What, I'ma (CHANGE THE GAME) Betcha' money I'ma (CHANGE THE GAME) Yeah nigga, I'ma (CHANGE THE GAME) Me and Quik about to do it nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) Realism with the fluid nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) Come on, you niggas feel it nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause we gon' take it to the limit nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) Y'all niggas bout to feel it nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause we gon' take it to the limit nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) Y'all niggas 'bout to feel it nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause we gon' take it to the limit nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) Y'all niggas 'bout to feel it nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause we gon' take it to the limit nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause y'all niggas 'bout to feel it nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause we gon' take it to the limit (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause y'all niggas 'bout to feel it nigga (CHANGE THE GAME) 'Cause we gon' take it to the limit |
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| 2. |
| 3:28 |
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New game..
Ay, my musical style is far from intermediate And my lyrics stay flow as if I was collegian (smart) Take my style you need it Cus the shit I'm hearing on the radio is so repeated So repetitive, not to be confused with competitive Get a bar of this you need a sedative It'll keep you up all night Analyze it; dissect it, pretty tough all right Cus I got some magic goin down I summon up my powers and get tragic on the sound Levin maggots on the ground (wow) And I'm trying to do it twice and get some rich ass figures Cus I'm tired of being nice to you bitch ass niggas And the truth is, I ignore disses You probably want my misses or you probably want my kisses, little faggot Never one for metaphors But now I take competitors, bleeding through that set of doors Cus I'm pretty jagged Flyer than TWA We came to the game strong we ready to play So watch how you speak it Cus my niggas'll break bats over your head until you leakin Nigga take that *Did y'all feel dat? We turning you out and we move the crowd, yeah Did y'all feel dat? We turning you out and we shake the crowd, yeah *Repeat What's with this paper stuff? Buy ya shit, look how you be actin Well I aint buyin shit but this one got you laughin Tough actin like +Tinactin+ is how my game got you reactin Keep on up them songs, look how you got me actin Skaboo come through, Skaboo always come through Shit pay a villain to a mind if a nigga asked you to I'm feelin you supposed to Look at all the things that I go through Ring the bell, gets the doll two before I'm even spoken to What the block quick to blow ya spot Why you sweatin when it was dead cold? I keeps it hot, hot! Figure you could ride me and still play me like polo, that's a no no Now I'm platinum crackin and that's fo sho' though Baby girl you aint know sexuality That got you watchin me jockin me fuckin wit Quik, Quik and now she out for me Pussy, torsi, pussy no working Skaboo Ha! Got your body jerkin *Repeat (x2) Now I'm as real as real gets And I put that on a police spill fuckin with Quik I'ma be rich And I ain't got no doubt in my mind, change the game in a real way Residential to presidential hey Y'all niggas don't wanna see me ballin Being black, in the big black Navi raw doggin Puffin on nothin but the bombest On my way up to the studio to get my definition of "Ebonics" Doin my thang gettin paid at the same time 5 G's for a 40 second rap line God bless the voice of a young soldier You don't wanna party with the realest pass my chips over Gave the show ate the sandwiches and left Packed the Avian water, left a big ass mess Now we on the highway, doin it my way Back up to the marial for my after party Did y'all feel dat? *Repeat (x2) |
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| 3. |
| 3:49 |
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Aiy, can you say gangsta shit? (Gangsta shit) Say gangsta shit
(Gangsta shit) Can you say gangsta shit? (Gangsta shit) Say gangsta shit (I ain't sayin no mo') We bout to step up - and move on, y'know We bout to step up - and move on, ha hah! We bout to step up - and move on, y'know, We bout to step up, hmm.. Now I still be knockin bitches like it ain't shit (it ain't shit) Because I'm dynamic, I program it, and make a hit Whether I'm in Dada jeans or crape silk slacks Flyness be the reason that my shit cracks, cause when I'm on the beats I'm fuckin all y'all up (all y'all up) Then I get up on the mic and scoop up all your mutts (all your mutts) I make you so saditty bitches wanna shake y'all butts (shake y'all butts) And you make you ballin niggaz wanna grab your lux Hangin with bangin niggaz that bring the heat for real And if you ain't gotta make a chip on my beats no deal Cus I negotiate everything with no fuss (fuss!) Spend 20 G's on my record, it's gold - plus (plus!) Fuckin every competitor on the stage - up (up!) Then I come to your city and get laid - up (up!) Give it everything I got to stay paid - up (up!) And if you feelin a nigga then say whaaat? (What!) *As we mooove toward the light With broads on our right (broads on our right) And haters to the left we part the way (we part the way) Put aside our prestige (prestige) We're really M-A-D (lit up) From the cage to the stage we come to play (AMG let 'em know) Wit more bounce than a b-ball, me and Q see-saw Thick or slim, I clown hoes wit a hee-haw Relax, the Roley's real Cartier tank, platinum and steel I'll buzz up in the club, now I'm up in the hill Headquarters, look at how we footin the bill Crem de la crem, who you with? Baby girl him?! Hop yo' ass in the rag Jag, come to the gym I ain't wit you fo' love, uh uh Cause if I wasn't me, you'd probably be callin me a scrub But you love the marble tubs, and the marble flo's You'se a copper bitch, tryin to be a platnum hoe Head to toes, and dont nobody wear no Girbauds no mo' Take that shit back; baby have a six pack I can't even say no more, where my dick at? *Repeat (broads on our right, we part the way, we lit up!, we come to play) Ay.. we been doin this shit since we was little boys So don't even trip us nigga, do your own shit Gettin down for the crown ain't a puzzle for me And you bitch niggaz can't put a muzzle on me Cus when I'm gone on the vodka and the grape juice I make the world rock when I let a tape loose They say ghetto niggaz is desperate and we shiesty But I turn down every celebrity bitch I see Choppin game with my nigga Mr. AMG And poppin dames in the coochie if it's F-A-T, fo' sho' Tres-zero-cuatro, I got cho' lady friends with new Mercedes mint (What?) All five-double-oh's, watch these pretty toes Hoes getint liquified (nut up) mystified (shut up) Stick and slide, if I mince my ride (hey) I'ma play you forever, wood and the leather Me and DJ Q, and the rest of the crew (Quik and AMG, yeah it's plain to see) We make G's like Donald T, bitch! (We make G's like Donald T, bitch!) *Repeat (Oww!, with broads on our right, we part the way, oh yeah, we lit up Quik and AMG, we come to play) And play well We come to play How you gon' play without us baby? We do our thing 10 years in the game And ain't nuttin changed Q, tell them how we feel, nigga |
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| 4. |
| 4:07 |
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Momma I know you said that you wanted a record you could listen to
With no cussing and shit I tried But I still gotta do this Yo Jingle jingle We've go the lingo With so much heat it's hard for us to pick the first single It don't matter cuz I'm underground anyway Rich balling, bitch call and fly any day You dirty niggas y'all too whack to dance Y'all need to ease up off that now before y'all splint y'all pants And leave that up to my niggas, young fly niggas Getting down you and I niggas dont try niggas I changed my mind I don't want your bitch Cuz sorry ass women just don't get rich You could keep her I'd rather have a fifi bag because it's cheaper You can't come up for NL I gets deeper And my hold is so cold, it's a sleeper So pass the reafer And to you false balling niggas just grab your crotches But if you paid nigga pat your pockets *And for sure You've got yours I've got mine's and we're balling So call up everybody Let's pitch in ona party for sure *Repeat Alright Somebody play the potato Let's take a ballad On who gonna invite the hoes that make the party valid Cuz we don't need a whole crib full of dudes again And here come the police with them big black boots again Kicking niggas out Hand cuffing and stuffing they banging jacky chicken in they mouth And time to shine pitching a fit Cuz somebody rolled her bud in a heeny blunt and won't pass the shit Who keeps turning the lights on? Why the music keep skipping? And why these dirty khaki niggas tripping? I don't know I'm Quik and I'm still delighted 500 dollars worth of white star About to hide it Cuz y'all ain't drinking mine up You better drink that anj and palmason and the rest of that wine up You party haters need to stop it I think we really about to pat your pockets *Repeat (x2) Hey baby My girlfriend left me today So which one of you old ragedy ass bitches wanna come in here and play? That's what my homie told and try to cop the cancun Then I caught him in there hunching in my downstairs bathroom And in the kitchen and up in there on the dancefloor By the big screen t.v. where your pants go? Some of you niggas I swear I try to throw y'all a ragedy ass party And y'all don't even care Cigarette burns in my plush Empty beer bottles in the brush And my bitch acting like a lush Boy what else could go wrong? Somebody kick the extension cord out [Music stops, DJ Quik talking] Move! Y'all gotta be some of the clumsiest muthafuckas [Music starts up again] To the sounds, now some Y'all done fucked up Get out, get on Speed up nigga Get up, take your weed on Ya nigga, the drunk nigga said it Your pockets, that's where I'm sending K go *Repeat (x4) |
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| 5. |
| 5:05 |
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Get back before I get raised, get lower
Do some extreme shit, keep from bein bored Now it's double up, hoes come a nickel a dozen They get hot and get fucked and don't remember from buzzin That's why you don't see me, I ain't at the club I'm chillin with my homies in the city of hugs Because they need me more than that hoe (that hoe), the big fat hoe Tryna' get every ballin nigga in the saddle Lap dance, fat chance, hot pants, you the man Now a days you can't tell, watch the crotch, it might swell You needs a pap smear You need to know if you got an std, Some little critters in ya trap dear Get on, me and my homies is indivisible And don't floss money, it looks better when it's invisible We get props from wall street to y'all street If ya missed it, I stay consistant, we got heat C-p-t style, o-g me style, the d-j q-u-i-k with no c style In yo' town, don't trip nigga, it goes down And when you see me in all blue, you gon' frown But I'm rigid the ghetto, I'm rigid with rap Money or respect bitch, I'd rather have the digits than dat So give me the hats, do you want the meat or the scraps? Put heat on my naps and i'ma hell look sweet on my lap 'cause it's the same thang tryna' kill the gang bang Set examples for the kids, on how to maintain Never be a lame brain Y'all ain't gotta feel the same pain That put a nigga like me on the mainframe Bow down, back up nigga, I'm hot now And don't try to resuscitate me when I'm shot down Just call my homie theo on the radio And let him know his little homie quiksta had to go Because 'gangsta, gangsta', that's what they yellin But niggas do dirt, get caught, and start tellin Talkin to you g's with no heart We was throwin and runnin from bullets Before gangsta rappin was an art Nigga (nigga), so don't test ya bullet-proof vest 'cause real niggas do real thangs up under stress That's from the c-p-t, young g with heart, too Oh we still party, but now it's part ii And (hook) (I don't wanna party wit you) Hell naw 'cause bitch you scary You 20 years old, with 3 kids, 7 tattoos, You're bald but your legs are hairy (I don't wanna party wit you) Hmm, hell naw You need to put some lotion on 'cause ya skin is peelin around them bullet wounds on ya back You're fat plus you're abortion-prone I'd rather be a young exec, than the puppet on the other end Danglin by a neuce on his neck They can't handle me, 'cause I'm where the --- be And underground nigga on erickston, now there is the family That i'ma roll wit, take control wit Have a ball, break bread, and share the store wit Even though I'm thirsty for money in the worst way I ain't go cry if I don't go platinum on the first day Watch me, get my hustle on with the friendly competition Y'all got papers but I got the latest tradition A hundred-thousand dollars a truck, is what I crack And if you ain't got that, keep wishin And to you bitch-ass niggas in the maze Comin at a player with --- ways Keep lickin on that other sound And stay north of the 105 hip hop heads, 'cause this is underground Right by the water, can't do right by ya daughter But look at all the shit that I done bought her See lyrics ain't nothin if the beat ain't crackin And these beats smackin, that's why the g's keep stackin, nigga (hook) (I don't wanna party wit you) Hell naw 'cause nigga you's a scuffla Your braids is dingy, your clothes ain't got no creases And your lips look like you sucked a muffler (I don't wanna party wit you) Hell naw 'cause bitch you didn't know me when you was fine as wine and thick Now you sick from smokin that shit, you're broke and plus you're boney W-e-s-t, c-o-a-s-t, that's where the hydroponic with no seeds be So don't trip when you see me on the tv, or my cd And my eyes are really r-e-d See the --- is free (shh shh shh), pardon me for bein speaky Switchin on y'all that wanna jeek me What makes you even try that way? Yeah I might be fly, but I don't fly that way Hmm, even on a gallon a sisco I could never go disco Dude I ain't from frisco And to these bitches, y'all trippin, we ain't layin wit y'all Just because we say we wanna fuck, we playin wit y'all This is entertainment, we tryna' make us some change We ain't impressed by what you got up under your hanes Bitch that's yo' trap, and that's yo' sap Let me spit the cap while she sit in yo' lap Homie, don't you know me Jealous-ass niggas wanna flow me (why) Just because yo' woman wanna blow me On the strength I give that hoe a tittie-toy 'cause I'm the only ugly nigga gettin away with bein pretty boy (hook) (I don't wanna party wit you) Hmm, hell naw Now this is how the sporty bounce We stay away from you broke-ass niggas Always beggin and ain't got a dime on the 40 oz (I don't wanna party wit you) Hmm, hell naw 'cause hoe you toe-back, with that ol' long ass roll And ya stockin smellin like avon and that horse want his 'fro back (I don't wanna party wit you) Hmm, hell naw And nigga I can't stand ya And I ain't got nothin but some advice, A map, a bar of soap, some water and a towel to hand ya (I don't wanna party wit you) Hmm, hell naw Now i'ma be real wit it All my fuckin life I ain't never wanted fame But since the shit done came I gotta deal wit it (I don't wanna party wit you) Ya know, but i'ma do it like my homie say Check it, I don't give a fuck about fame I'd rather deal with the money, y'all can have the name I'm out Yeah |
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| 6. |
| 1:43 | 
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| 7. |
| 4:03 |
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Ah, this song is for all them bitches out there
That think a nigger really supposed to pay they way through life You know, like that "Scrub" shit It's also dedicated to that chicken head bitch that wrote the lyrics As we proceed, to give you what you need Gettin down to my beats, as we bring the heat [Hook] Make it bounce, bounce, drop it, pop it, on the side Make it bounce, bounce, grab it, slap it, on the side [DJ Quik] This is dedicated to a bad hoe From you don't recognize? I'ma let chu know Always DJ Q-U-I-K Get in my room now and do what I say Get your ass up out of that chair Peel them clothes off layer by layer Article by Article, till I say no Leavin you over exposed like the (whooo?) There is sex in the champagne room Me and my homies gonna run a damn train soon Foursome goin down, Oh my gosh Y'all get posh I'll just watch Talk about the hoes, well I didn't wanna do it But now I gotta put y'all back into it Your nothin' meaningful(No) What you screamin' fo?(hm?) Really as if you didn't know Chorus: The Sexuality is(You know the trouble I get you in) The reason you got the kids(They got a whole lotta jokers too) There's somethin' more that you do (You know, when you put that little twist on it) That make the niggas wanna fuck you [DJ Quik] You say you need a side job, make an extra knot(Money) Clubbin at the jet strip horny niggas stop(Funny) Hop stop it, drop it like it's hot Get burned then you gotta go in and get a shot Lookin' for a husband and lickin on your tity Fuckin' each and every other nigga in the city How the hell you think your boyfriend gon take it You hear a fast song, Get up and get naked Selling you a nice drink while you eat it up Negotiate with you for a minute then beat it up Underground laws the rules still apply Mackin' is an art reserved for the fly She don't know why you tryin' to harm her(Dumb) Lookin' for a dick in shinin' armor Yeah, the same that be saying you with dick on your breath Bitch either get dropped or get left Chorus: The Sexuality is(You know the way you keep grinding on niggas) The reason you got the kids(And you bound to have a couple of 'em) There's somethin' more that you do(You know when you pop that thang) That make the niggas wanna fuck you(And the girls do to) Hook 3x [DJ Quik] Oh with out a doubt she lives to cum I'ma be mad if she gives you some? Dude you could have this trashy bitch Put a down payment on her make me rich Thank you for helping me to change my mind You're not my ego, hoe fuck yo' kind Can't get mad if the bus don't come I'ma just bail cus I trust no one Cus everything that come up out your is a lie You spend a lot of time with your stomach to the sky Lookin for a nut wit a nut comin' out a nut Gotta nutty broke nigga sprung with her sorry butt Bitch, you just been warn Another Suga Free has just been born And I bet you couldn't keep your pussy ol' shut With a pair of grippliers Bitch you tired Chorus: The Sexuality is(You know when you take yourself out there) The reason you got the kids(And you bound to have a couple of 'em) There's somethin' more that you do (You know when you put it up for sale) That make the niggas wanna fuck you (Talk about buy one and get one free) The Sexuality is(You aint nuttin but a Goddamn ride) The reason you got the kids(And you look like you rent it often) There's somethin' more that you do (Oh your mama need her ass whooped) That make the niggas wanna fuck you (Don't sing it though, she's just as bad, ol' tryflin' bitch) |
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| 8. |
| 3:53 |
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| 9. |
| 3:55 |
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(feat. Erick Sermon & Ham)
(Verse 1 - DJ Quik) I know you like to do ecstacy, and then forget where you are Be up in a room with a stripper, and your homie Lamar Now that's a nasty threesome, a straight mis-match Instead of bangin' on the broad, you'd rather open his hatch And start packin'... and get some dookie on your tip Don't look now, you got a loogie on your lip Next time video tape it, let us all see it This is Sir Herb, I'll put you on the web - you pervert The number 23 on the beats, 'bout to do ya Mister Blake A.K.A. DJ Quik talkin' to ya And I'll prove I'm proper and yo game is whack with 1 line I'll never put my name on a track that wasn't mine This hip-hip shit, is getting stupid again These niggas gun-tottin', fightin', gettin' rutless again There's a message in the Big Book, didn't you read it? It say if niggas don't remember the past, they gonn' repeat it So I'm into ???ated That ground heart-stated And we all made it If you want a hit, nigga, call David The first name basis, depends on how the pay is 50 under the table do it enough, don't need a label 'Cause I rob from the rich and I... gives to the ?floor? The ground-level ground shovel diggin' up some more So let's stay focused 'cause the chip is the prize Now put your shit in first, nigga, and shift it to rise And like Frank Nitti, ?We 2-degree? And you haters trippin' cause I got the key to the city Not a sissy but the hoes keep callin' us pretty And you mad 'cause the bitch got me on her titty Mr. Troutman talk me talkbox, do why diddy! And I'll tell you to your ear, nigga, you sound shitty I'll take your hoe up to the room and show her no pity So call me DJ Meow Mix 'cause we gets kitty (meow) Scratchin' all the fleas off of these Stayin' high off of trees Top villian, and enjoyin' the breeze And the time I'm spendin' in yo bitch, a supreme blast In the back of my S-500 playin' Dreamcast (Chorus) You Ain't Fresh (7x) You a busta, nigga! You Ain't Fresh (7x) You a busta, nigga! (Verse 2 - Erick Sermon) Yo, yo, I'm into somethin' new, hoppin' through Quicker than the Compton Crew, and Y too Yo, what you wanna do? You ain't fresh! No contest - we cook like Raekwon the Chef And write for the skills, get set for the kill And prep for the meals, after that we chill The E-R-I-C-K is my name, I spell Bring it back like '92, with clientele And keep shit right, and make sure the sound excite Nigga in affect, like flashlight Quik and I do it 'til death In the house 'yall, blackin' out like Red & Meth Thick-boned women, in jeans and linen Yeah (whew!), make a nigga wanna go fishin' And when I walk by, girls singin' a song Like E... is like a phemomenon Ugh, al around the world they be bumpin' to E Shuttin' it down, right in your company I blow through like a gust of wind, through doors Tearin' down the roof, rippin' the floors 'Cause rap's no game, I pack heat, ain't afraid to pull it For what packs, I packs full of bullets Stop when I come through Big, Black, motherfucker fresh for '99 You suckas! (Chorus) You Ain't Fresh (7x) You a busta, nigga You Ain't Fresh (7x) You a busta, nigga (Verse 3 - Kam) Kam got get-back So get up off my dick, rat Nigga, that shit whack You want a hit track? Where Quik at? Knick, knack, patty whack I only bone dimes How you tight? You don't even write your own rhymes It's been a long time Since you last heard from me Like Bill ass Hillary, "what's up?" Still love me, pretty young thang? City I'm from bang What's up, nigga? Real G's don't wear titty and tongue rings You's a fruity-o, you make the most excuses And keep a studio full of ghost producers Young boss heard You was tryin' to floss, nerd Hollerin' "which side is the realest?" Who you steal that from? (Mausberg) The street slang thief is your chief employment You live a life full of grief after brief enjoyment Fake gang bangers, when you see us, tuck all rags Adios, buenos dias, fuck y'all fags! (Chorus) You ain't fresh You ain't fresh... |
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| 10. |
| 2:49 |
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| 11. |
| 0:36 |
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| 12. |
| 3:35 |
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(re-make of Eazier-Said-Than-Dunn by Eazy E)
My name is Quik yeah this is true Keepin' your attention is what I'm gonna do Hardcore yo I could never be soft Askin' me my defin' they say the boy goes off Fillin' up my memo with the touch of my rhyme Suckaz stayin' with me cause they know the time Quiet on the set because I'm about to begin And if you didnt hear me boy I'll tell you again My name is Quik or just call me Q But It doesn't really matter to you Cause I'm the same person Whether serious or rehearsin' I just gotta keep cursin' This is for the radio so I better chill They won't play it if I co get ill But I'm like that and thats an actually fact Because the street is where my heart is at Yo I don't do dope but I'm dope not a dope But I'm doper than anybody who trys to cope If the rhyme I'm dispayin' And the beat thats playin' Yo you could try all day and you still won't match up with the Ruthless P.O.W. Cause Quik's doin it Compton style Thats the city and you say you could get some yo It's Quik-er Said Than Dunn. (Chorus) Wooooooo! Wooooooo! They made it easy for me to get my point across So listen up close if ya don't ya might get lost I'm not a role model nore a Dr. Seuss But i'm not a gangsta and I'm about to get stupid I guess its time for the trama With the Q-U-I-K comma Now thats drama so pay attention By the way I must mention I'm comin' off hard in the third dimension With the glare but you don't need no glasses to stare It'll probably take you in and it's just like your there With the Q on the Compton tip So if you think I'm a flip or slip don't even trip Cause I'm a destroyer My homie Theo is a dj not a lawyer dope fly employer On the (static) thats my station To get the money, the women, while we dippin round tha nation Boy, Mister Quiks of toys I mean str8 while ya suckin' with the girls enjoy You must be sick or ya lonely How ya gone still my name if ya don't even know me (Dj Quik: Blak Tone) (Blak Tone: What sup) Get the gat show 'em where it's at and that's just the sound and next time I'm peelin ya cap to let ya know where I'm comin' from Quik said it and it shall Be Dunn. (Chorus) Wooooooo! Wooooooo! Creatin dope jams are the part of the cycle Quik-er said than dunn yeah thats the title Rubbin' the lady's only the fly ones ya know (M.C. Ren: but would if she's ugly) If she come she a ho Don't ask to battle me home boy what's that you wanna battle me boy ya better be strapped cause where I'm from it ain't all about that playin' (*gun shots*) now that's what I'm sayin' Sevy thought that I was born in '73 now everybody want's to know the A-G-E Girls on the tip fellaz too it seemed had everybody thinkin' I was only 15 The fellaz would annoy me the ladyz would adore me and what was I to do I wishin' nothin' ladies do cause the ladiez I luv 'em nice and then soft I hate male groupies so just step the hell off I'm the real Quikster cause others be fakin' tryin' to game fame off the name I'm makin' sayin' on your records you could get some Yo home boy its Quik-er Said Than Dunn. (*Ove chorus- Just a Quik Dedication. To tha creator of Gangsta Rap music. Mr. Erik Eazy E Wright. That's how its done.) (Chorus) Wooooooo! Wooooooo! |
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| 13. |
| 1:31 |
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| 14. |
| 2:33 |
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(feat. Mausberg & AMG)
[DJ Quik] Hey! You got that see through style that I can stare through (right through) Produce a track on you, I don't care to (I won't do it) But I'm sympathetic to your needin' 'Cause it ain't me your wife keeps turnin' down While she's tellin' you she bleedin' (she's lying to you) It ain't my fault I'm lookin' 23 and twenty-fo' All day long hottest tracks rockin' any show (true) Notorious for making bitches horny While you lookin' old walkin' through that corn lookin' corny (look at that nigga) And it's more than obvious that you're jealous But don't hate my style, don't hate my money, don't hate my fellas We do what we gotta do to get where we're goin' for us To be where we need to be at...believe that Stop beggin' for a beat you can't afford it (uh uh) They hotter than them pretty red Dada's I be sportin' (uh huh) 'Cause I got the home court and when I'm rappin' On my own tracks mothafucka I feel like Jordan! Music cuts off Music returns [Mausberg] Now what lack that I'm the realest On top of game you fuckin' my vibe off with them homosexual ways Me and my nigga...we on some new improved shit Makin' you groove shit, get paid and move quick Nigga you gettin' mad 'cause I'm shakin' my belly In a stretch navigator makin' moves on the celly Talkin' to Stan, Tone and Quik on a conference call Get ready dogg, you ponic 'bout to take off Took the crown back, tucked it and ready for war Bustin' over 2 cars, a house note and probably more I wanna see the Madd Rapper step in my hood So I can take him fo' a shit and all them coward niggas good Love madresta, Kam and Crunk Dogg Respect a nigga who done been through war Sportin' a battle scar But there's a lotta fake niggas, sportin' a fake crown Straight up out the swapmeet, bustin' on wack underground Music cuts off Old man & young man Speaking Music returns [AMG] Yeah, uh I been around the whole damn world in a day Partied wit players and haters, told 'em the rules of the game Some in the vein, like this shit is a drug You can catch me in the new 500 on dubs I'm up in the club Wanna get naked and smoke Notice, you never see a nigga there when he broke UH UH! Somebody told me these hoes wanted to hold me If a real player dress like Goldie, y'all niggas throw in a oldie SHIT! Niggas wanna clown, clown, clown You can find me at down, down, down Dot com, bring ya mom (uh huh) She wanna see too, cartier see through Poppa in the beat Oh shit, it's a thrill Tonight a couple of mill When we party in the grill Livin' life's like a skill Too much, cruder name But baby I betcha Fuckin' wit this money here, oh c'mon man I gotta getcha |
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| 15. |
| 5:08 |
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| 16. |
| 5:41 |
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Now if I broke my leg, tell me, would I be carried?
And would you still love, baby, if I was married? Or will I make the shot even if I was hurried? And will I still be remembered even after I'm buried? They got me waking up in the morning getting loaded Got me worrying so hard sometimes I'm feeling like my brain exploded But I'm a break it down, fix it and re-roll it And show you haters out here that I control it I'm in this for something so different that you couldn't imagine The style, the flyness, the beautiful hoes The pile, the higness, the pitiful lows That keeps a major player like me up on his toes No, not quite, I want my props on the merit of the hands That I use to mould myself to the spirit of a man I'm just a tiny grain of sand under my God The one who keeps me humble, keeps me up and working hard It's alright to be in love with yourself But when your sex life gets bad you ain't on the shelf Lose your addictions, clean spirit's a must Shed your inhibitions and come bounce with us We trying to have fun from Japan to Compton With no more evil cause it salts the program See I never went back to something that burned out And I ain't never did a party I ain't turn out *Things I used to do, I don't do no more Places I used to go, don't move me like before Ahh, but it's gonna be rough From the bottom to the top, top to the bottom Real homeys don't forget about the ones who thought about em Rags to riches, riches to rags I apologize for hurting your feelings, little fag Back in the day we was young thinking everything was cool Ditching school, puffing beadies and drinking brew Afraid of the bomb izm but we tried it Ain't no sense in denying it, I loved that environment Take a look back and damn near shed a tear Reminiscing on the past time, year after year When we grew up, things have changed You in the penitentiary, I be dwelling in the rap game Started at the same path but I chose to go right Looking for money and fame cause I'm a rider for life And all the slanging and banging and fucking rats in the past I shook it to the left and I ain't looking for a pass *Repeat Now I just want to do my best whether it's work, play or either And I ain't trying to be no preacher cause they ain't perfect neither One of the coldest entertainers that I done seen yet With the skill to rock the fellas and make the ladies sweat But there's a method to the madness that I suffer from Making the hardest dudes tremble and even tougher run It's called the spirit and it's fly, and it's making me bigger Keeping me from stressing out and throwing nuttys on niggas Ain't religion for me unless it's all to the good Cause I'm an open-minded ex-G with my sights on the hood Trying to keep the little YGs out of the line of the fire Even if it means I'm gonna take the hit, leak and expire Now I see what Top was saying before he left his hole That we'll shine like glitter, my nigga, but keep your soul Don't give another nigga control of your gold Share your parties with the world and watch you get swirled *Repeat |
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| 17. |
| 4:59 |
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| 18. |
| 4:10 |
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(DJ Quik)
Lay there, please don't move baby. On me, don't you stop. Doggy, comin through baby Watch me hit the spot. You make me wanna speak Spanish You make me wanna be manish Nothing could compare to the way we keep it hot. Strawberries soakin in amaretto out in the limo. Be spitty, got the car lookin pretty, in the window. Lets hit the indo. Commit a sin in this crescendo. Smoky, foggy Take off your coat, lets hit the doggy. Pull out your scrunchie, let me play through your mane Long, brown, nice and round, explorin my brain. Selective and picky when we get wet and get sticky. In and out, without a clue, not even a hickey. Love it or leave it, addictive like crystal to meth And it's hard to let go of me when I shift to the left. Never like what you're happy for, I'm more than a man. I can even make you feel me when you're usin your hand. I'm confident, like an MVP Got the key to the CPT Lookin for a G like me She F-E-M-A-L-E Where you be at? True love only can be that. I'm tellin you that you the shit. Call me when you get this hit. (Chorus 1: DJ Quik) Do I love her, do I need her? (Suga Free: nuh uh) Do I take my money out and feed her? (no, no) And should I treat her (no, no) like no other? (nah) I don't know I think I need to ask my brother Suga Free. (Chorus 1: Suga Free) Do I love her? (uh huh) Do I need her? (Oh, yeah) And when she tells me she loves me, I don't believe her (yeah, you do) No I don't love her, (mmm hmm) And I don't need her (Yeah, yeah) And if she don't give me me money I'm a leave her. (verse 2) See baby, I got a spot to fill. And all that callin me out my name gonna have you Runnin down the street barefooted again sayin "not for real!" And how you gonna blame mine? Dawon and Suga Free the same person But you will never catch me and him in the same room at the same time Baby, you not yo best, I called you Cuz I was broke, hoeless, and short on these little ends And it wasn't for no sex. I see you still messin wit yo phony ballers. But when they tired of you You run yo lil ass right back over here beggin me for 20 dollars. And mighty funny (mighty funny) You get nice than a mug with them hugs, actin like you in love With a nigga, when you love money. What? you stuck? Hoe, if I tell yo flea to pull a tree You get a chain and hook his lil ass up. Quik'll give you a piece of his planet. But I'll give you a dirt rock Half a low quat Not a dope spot Nor a piece of this pomegranet. Baby wanna eat-eat? Cuz Suga Free-Free Will go gleek-gleek And tweak-tweak And put yo all to sleep-sleep. Ooh, I'm a tell (I'm a tell) Suga Free pop a beat and spit a rap so swell. She said, "suga free, you know anything about cars, honey?" I said, yeah, you fill em up with hoes Take em to the hoes store So they can get that money! (Chorus 2: DJ Quik) Do I love her do I need her? (suga free: uh uh) Do I take my money out and feed her? (no way) And do I treat her (no) like no other (man) I don't know I think I need to ask my brother suga free. (Chorus 2: Suga Free) Aah, do I love her do I need her? (DJ Quik: Oh, yeah) And when she tell me she love me I don't believe her (yea you do) Do I love her? (mmm hmm) Do I need her? (fo sho) Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone, Devil be gone! I'm leaving (yeah) (DJ Quik, talking) See, that's what y'all get for underestimatin me and Suga Free. We told y'all we was magical, way back in 1996. But y'all didn't feel that. Y'all chose to sleep on us. Baby, we so powerful, we can make the rain stop (Rain, ne me nome) You feel that? (Chorus 3: DJ Quik) Do I love her, do I need her? Do I take my money out and feed her? And do I treat her (mmm mmm) like no other? (naw) I don't know, I think I need to ask my brother Suga Free (Chorus 3: Suga Free) Ooh, do I love her, Do I need her? (DJ Quik: mmm hmm) And when she tell me she love me I don't believe her (yeah, you do) Now do I love her (mmm hmm) or care about her (you should) You ne me nome, ne me nome, fore I lock you in that box again (DJ Quik) Do I love her do I need her? (Box again) Do I take my money out and feed her? (ne me nome!) And do I treat her a-like no other? (yaah!) I don't know I think I need to ask my brother Suga Free (Suga Free) Ooh, do I love her, do I need her? (sure do) And when she tell me she love me I don't believe her (she need you too) And do I love her (mmm hmm) or care about her? (you outta) You ne me nome, leave me alone, before I lock you in that box again (DJ Quik) Do I love her do I need her? (Box again) Do I take my money out and feed her? (Box again!) And do I treat her a-like no other? (Suga Free) Ne me nome |
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| 19. |
| 4:33 |
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(feat. deBarge)
[El Debarge] How many times I had to tell you baby I ain't got nothin' to prove to you, no no Doin' the things you know is going to drive me crazy Thinkin' I don't need the shit you're going through When I come home at night, I try to lay my head down You do the things that keep me awake It's like you love to hear me argue for survive(?), girl How much am I supposed to take? If you feel like I feel you wouldn't act this way, girl Is this the price I have to pay? Ah, baby, but [Chorus: repeat 2X] All I want to do is Make sure that nothing's wrong with my kids So we can get along and still be friends [DJ Quik] I stuck around 'coz I thought things were going to get better I should have had more trust in me, uh uh oh oh I know you tricked around when we went through our thing Steady stealing time with him but you were coming home to me You didn't care what I thought you had to have your way girl You had your cake and ate it too I still try to look out although you did me wrong Getting even just ain't cool If you feel like I feel you wouldn't act this way, girl Ain't nothing left for me to say But to tell you that [Chorus] [interlude] [Chorus] - 2X [DJ Quik] All of my children, yeah yeah Make sure that nothing's wrong with all my childrens Yeah, you're my babies Make sure nothing's wrong With my children Coz you know I love them You know I can't live without my children, yeah Ooooohhhh |
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| 20. |
| 1:08 |
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