Redman Da Countdown

The motherfuckin saga continues…


Yeah, turn me up some on the mic some (1, 2, 1, 2…)

Yeah, Turn it down overall in the headphones


Yo, we go one for the money, two for the show

Three for Brick City, four for Bang Bro

This the count down, bang the underground

Bang a hundred rounds, nigga you want it down

I can’t believe they givin air for these cats to breathe

But Ima dog, and I sniff between

I glow like the sun, but run in the nite

Doc’ll bend you quick, like the front of your Nikes

Redman, I make my 929 can-can

And if you cant’ stand the pressure, slam dance

Def Jam lost they soul

They forgot how to build a artist, so I gotta show ’em

Gilla House, you let the real gorilla out

The Pit Boss of the game is how I deal ’em out

Yall philosophy is wrong, it’s to the +left+

So gimme fifty G’s lemme +right+ (write) your songs


The motherfuckin saga continues…

The motherfuckin saga continues…

The motherfuckin saga continues…

The motherfuckin saga continues…

[Verse 2]

Long as Rockwilder and E. Sermon got my back

I don’t need to pick up tracks

I choose to do it

I’m fluent, I crack it to the rooster roostin

This for carjackers, and boosters boostin

Duck nigga, fuck ya Cadillac truck pick-up

I roll Sanford and Son when cameras come

I’m Gilla, I do it red-handed and run

Write my scripture in the Bible, hand it to nuns

I’m keepin a green thumb

Me and my man Tical, Four, Voltron and Team One

Smoke addicts, when the mic on we toe tag it

My Go-go Gadget, go smack bastards

Rap like Ceramic

Doc Slept on a bed of bricks, yall takin flicks on a hammack

And In my head, I can hear Jam Master jammin

I’m the Brick Layer, I’m the Brick Mayor

Doctor Dictator, put ya gun and switchblade up

Gilla House, wakin up your neighbors

Keep my family tight like Will Smith and Jada

FYI, I’m back on the job, BITCH!

[Chorus x2]


Motherfuckers better hit the gate, we go…


Gilla house gon keep it alive, we go…


I got bitches like “Who that dude!?”

(One!) I’m number one

(One!) I’m number one

(One!) I’m number one


Redman Soopaman Luva 5

Somebody stole my mojo! Yo, once again..

Soopaman Luva flyin through the fuckin sky

I’m lookin for my mojo, I’m fried chinky-eyed

My cape is still tore up, but I make a lil’ money

I’m like Ace Ventura, duckin my landlord

The land of the poor, where I handle my biz

I got a weed spot on the block Hannibal live

Pokemon on the pipe, Rudolph the deer Red-Nose

glow in the night, when his nose gettin right

I pimp Snow and Vanna White on the hoe stroll

Dr. Ruth on E, sippin Old Gold

Mr. T on crack, mohawk cornrow

In South Park with the Chef, in the stolen Ford

I’m lookin for my mojo, where it at?

Got a APB on it dawg, where it at?

I ran into Cita, from BET

She said, “Man is a nigga, that’s fast on the trigger

I thought he was you, when we had the party for two

My girlfriend said the same, majority rules”

Damn!! Who takin my women?

Who takin my chickens around Thanksgiving? Now that’s pimpin!

Called my man Meth and Bishop Don Juan

He smokin a blunt, other sippin Sean Don

He said it ain’t the game, but how you play it

So I can’t hate the game, so I’m dyin to play it

Now I’m back in the air, ready to put my smack down

I’m searchin for the impostor to pat down

I’m urgin to put the glock up and clap rounds

It’s curtains like Jimmy Hoffa, he not found

So ride on me, try homey

Your plan’ll fail like the Acme Kit from Coyote

Now I’ma find the bastard that stole my juice

Soopaman Part Five, in your archives


I’m yo Soopaman baby, that’s who I am

Flyin through the air, without a care

I’m high as hell blazin, that Cali weed (Kryptonite for life)

That Kryptonite bud, that sticky green

I’m yo’ Soopaman (he’s yo’ Soopaman) I’m yo’ Soopaman

I’m yo’ Soopaman (whoaaa yea yea yea yea) I’m yo’ Soopaman

I’m yo’ Soopaman (he’s high as hell for life)

I’m yo’ Soopaman (that Cali weed)

I’m yo’ Soopaman (Kryptonite baller)

I’m yo’ Soopaman (sticky green)

[needle drags across the record]

Redman WKYA

[radio announcer]

This is DJ Sayyyy WHAT?! on this motherfucker

Comin at you live on WKYA Radio from the Brick City

The weather is callin for it to be hotter than a MOTHERFUCKER out there

So crack a brew, roll a blunt, cause the phone lines are open right now

We’ve expanded to cities like Atlanta, D.C., Tampa, Chicago

Dallas, Memphis, Detroit and L.A.

So call in now, 1-800-High-as-a-Motherfucker

That’s 1-800-,High-as-a-MOTHERFUCKER!!

DOCTOR DOCTOR! Tell me how ya do it

Spit hot shit like it ain’t nuttin to it..

DOCTOR DOCTOR! Tell me how ya do it

Spit hot shit like it ain’t nuttin to it..


Yo, when I walk I stalk like a dog (AROOF!)

Writin “fuck ya hometown” on ya wall (AROOF!)

WKYA! Them niggaz that’ll whip out the dick

and piss ALL in your gar-ments

When I come around, son lay ’em down

This Homey the Clown play around so pay it now

Sweepin the block up, Mayor Doc, he in town

Ridin the highway at night to run a deer down; I look for the action

Funk Doc, I don’t look when I’m crashin!

I’m so dope I could bundle cook-up by the aspirin

Gaspin like it’s Aspen, no air

Beef we bring it on with tap shoes and hope the po’-po’ there

Graduated, they said Red would go nowhere (uh-uh)

Now, SOURCE AWARDS, ride a water buffalo there

Polo Gear, holes in it, the fo’-fo’ wear

Ass out, check the weather report for cold air (brrrr)

On your hottest day of the summer, I snowmobile in

Stack new jacks in the Carter, blow the building

It’s WKYA muh’fucker

Bringin trouble your way, so duck muh’fucker!

Yeahh! Two-hundred and fifty-five-thousand pounds

of guerilla shit funk fo’ yo’ ass motherfucker!

Bricks to Brook-nam, we hold it down, PPP Def Squad

Ya tell me once and I’ll tell you again

Pull out the mac-10 and rob yo’ friend, yeahhh!

(Fucker) WKYA (We kickin yo’ ass)

Redman Tonight’s Da Nite

Who wanna have a motherfuckin orgy?

Word is bond, word is me

Smokin mad blunts, and all the fronts and

Check it out, whatcha want and

Go on with slang, well get to bang, rockin my thang

Funkadelic, hit you with irrelevant, heyyyy

Micraphone check, I walk around the street with black Tecs and knapsacks

I’m known for smokin ass-cracks til I get ass flashbacks

So all my niggaz if you’re fuckin damage let me hear ya you can

*bo bo bo bo bo bo bo* now did you catch a victim? HELL NO

Come back in to fatten to funky tracks

Blast a motherfucker until you’re peekin through his back

Cause my brain is twisted, funky realistic on the ill shit

I rock it til, bitches start givin up that punany

Pajamies, up the coochie, pass the clit, pass the loose shit

Then BOO-YAA, I gave you another shot of the good shit

Don’t believe me why your pussy breathin hard enough to pinch

the clitoris, dangle it from my cock I don’t feel shit

So check me the original Joe Pesky freak the sexy

I got more Gadgets than the Inspector, go-go jet-skis

Then swoop through your troops knock the boots on your cutes

Grab you for your loot, wrap my fuckin chain around your tooth

Cause, that’s the way it goes when Tonight’s Da Nite

The music feelin Funkadelic and the mood is right

I stick the nine between your eyes and blast you outta sight

Cause that’s the way the knotty-headed nigga, rollin right

Blunts by the boxes, I smuggle the chocolate thai to get me high when

I ran through more niggaz, than any kid that was adopted

Plus an ostrich couldn’t swallow my cock, quick cause it’s stopped which

makes the Soopaman Luva get stockings by the flocks bitch, hrrrahhh

So on and on and let me kick the rab

That light skinned brother with mad shaft up your fuckin ass

You wanna see me get cool, the original rude bwoy, fuck with the new toys

Like pistols, I dismiss crews, so order some new boys

Blast the funky buddha’s lockin ash up in my body

For Fozzy Patsi I bring Sad Days to niggaz constant…! Freak Funkadelic phrases cause I’m true school

I’m fuckin Madonna down to Smurfette down one down to M’bufu

Funks formatic, the fat shit, the wicked basket from caskets

Plus I’m rollin blunts with niggaz ashes

Smoke on the choke, light a toke until it’s proper

I deserve an Oscar for pullin glocks out niggaz mouths cuz

I kill like that, plus I roll like that

I’m that guy with cerebral-palsy even Bo knows that

BUT FUCK THAT, we drop the new runner to get some ganja

Goin Uptown, we check Benny Red out, he pulls the smack out

Then roll up the bills-nilz, or better yet the pute

the loo-pay, rank near my nost to rock the block

Hittin niggaz upside the head with rocks in socks, glock on cock

Back, trigger-hap, P P P rockin that unity

Motherfucker! Yeah yeah motherfuckers, it’s on it’s on it’s on

Throw your hands in the air, and wave em like you just don’t care

And if you haven’t been fucked, by the Soopaman Luva

Let me hear you say, oh yeahhyeah!

Oh yeahhyeah! Funkadelic, hit you with the irrelevant

facts and max, and on and on my crew pull gats

Flick slaps em back, come on and fuckin up tracks

Kick the mad wicked, bricks to stick it

Come on and, I get Wilson like Pickett then stick it

She wanna check me when I’m lickin your ass

And lickin ya down to your clitoris

Do you remember this, bitch, I know you’re kinda hearin this

Style that I’m kickin, yes I’m mad wicked

Funkadelic, runs the mad train up your anus!

Baby, cause I’m famous!

Nope, I didn’t mean that

The mean fat black fat tracks and old dreams at

I’m all teen strapped, sports a bean hat

Want to rhyme to be down, but homey ain’t gonna bean that

Redman Bobyahed2dis

[Jeff Stewart]

And I say… right about now you are rockin with the best!

Can I get a hit? [inhale] [coughing] Thank you [coughing]

What you’re about to experience is a walk on the Funkadelic side

Who knows better than the Funkadelic devil himself

To all knotty head niggaz, bob to this

Come walk with Def Squad on the darkside

Coming to you live and direct without further adieu

I bring to you Redman one more time

This is Jeff Stewart and you know how I do it… god DAYAM!!!


So who’s that funky nigga that’s known to kick the fat shit?

The mirror said “You are, you conceited bastard”

(cutting and scratching of bastard)

Done by the dogcatcher, dogcatcher, it’s the dogfetcher, I betcha

Aahhhhhhhhhhh, with the slang

Get you coughed up from the weed it’ll bust your brain

The top notch of hip-hop and I’m on the charts

I’m catchin applause when I rock the micraphone from the heart

My style’s foul, so look into the eyes of Lorimars

As you can see, I drop funk bars from here to Mars

Still rollin down the highway wit my forty between my lap bitch

Crossin DTW, coming into my lap and

Boy my skills are stacks, I love to do it from the back

My style swarms over ghettoes like crack

Blow in any hood and puff a blunt with any nigga

As long as we both got, it don’t matter who’s gun bigger

But I bet you you can’t do that, cause the multiplatinums

can’t save your ass on the block, and you’re fucked if it ain’t pop

The funk is blowin wattage out your fuckin trunks

Like peak Puma, I known to give a whole lots of lumps

Props I got, coming through your block nine cocked

My socks, even got three-eighty-nine shots

Don’t press it, I hang em like them niggaz do in Texas

You don’t have no heart you chestless, cuz your heart’s on my necklace

I give props to real MC’s like KRS-One

Kool G Rap, Buckshot, Busta me and I’m from

The East coast!! Where a nigga like you get that fat?

And since you came out gassed, well I’m closin your gas cap

The creature, from the deeper, ultimate funk freaker

Represent New Jersey, keep your eyes up on the bleacher

A menace like Dennis, I got game like Ennis

I can french-kiss my lyrics, then I run trains with sentence

Lord have mercy! It’s too much funk to cope with

Droppin dope shit after dope shit, we’re atrocious

That’s from the lungs, that rings from here to kingdom come

And I don’t have to be a Special Ed to get dumb!!

Redman Noorotic

Y’all motherfuckers buckle y’all motherfuckin seatbelts

If you need to get high, there’s a mask and shit in the overhead compartment

I can’t tell y’all what the weather’s like cuz my radio’s fucked up

And if we should experience any type of motor difficulty

Don’t panic, take one more hit off the oxygen mask

Calmly put your hands between your legs

And kiss your black ass goodbye!!

I’m swift like a motherfuckin gift for Christmas

When I send my vapors off like Halls menthalyptus

My verbs and nouns shatter walls of underground

Let me be blunt: I like crackin brews with bitches

The ninety-four era I cause terror, whatEVER

Rainin on you punks with the funk, so get your umbrellas

My guns cruise, tennis shoes, what’s happenin

I got clapped on, now I’m the one doin the clappin

I’m Flexi Wit Da Tec like Artifacts make Memorex

blow tape decks when I’m more strapped than latex

Felt like menopause, I make niggaz act like beatches

Yo yo that nigga Red be frontin – with they ass full of stitches

Woo! I just don’t give a FUCK

I bite your whole nipple off, sick like sickle-cell anemia

Travel around my curse universe

I’m droppin 98.7 degrees down to Red Alert

Droppin the slang, I’ll bust your brains with the real shit

Come hit my blunt so I can make y’all feel it

Abuse niggaz verbally so call Dyfus

I’m a warrior, to the heart, but I didn’t kill Cyrus

Noorotic, my style format rocks the project

I get as ill as chief of police on narcotic

Give me a time and I’ll free your mind and lick your

funky emotions, to blow your veins up with funk overdosing

Now who’s that nigga that got your crew bellin?

Not with guns with funk when I rock tracks like Van Halen

I’m in the world, with Jacob’s Ladder

I’m seein a lot of happy copycat rappers actin like they got asthma

They attackin me, they slowin they rhymes down actually

They got factories with little dolls named after me

But it’s no question my funk segment leave the whole atmosphere

pressed-in, I take advantage of niggaz like I was molesterin

Newark New Jersey’s what I represent


My brain be zoned and I phoned home to ET’s home

and to hook me up with stash spots to put my chrome in

Whattup to Prince Street, Avon Ave I roll a spliff with

Fat to be passed through Bedrock and Diamond District

So what the fuck I got clapped on for my truck

Then I laughed cause fuck the cash I just wanted my tape bag

Fantastic fabulous my shit is fat shit

The bomb like Elway throw bombs on John Madden

Fuck that, let’s get to the point, my shit’s the joint, I roast

Motherfuckers from the East coast to the West coast to your breakfast

voltage, I got funk for days by the buckets

PPP packs a bunch of wild motherfuckers

Hold hold hold, wait wait wait

Let me school this bitch

Yo bitch my shit is tight, can any MC do this

[sounds of sex]

And come back on the mic?

I think not, my paper make pen leave nuff ink spots

On blocks where your punk ass still bustin off slingshots

Talkin shit about me when I’m drivin by slowly

Sayin I’m this and that when half y’all punks don’t even know me

Now just for that I let your girl suck my dick from the back

and let your moms give me cornrows on my crack

Cause I’m nasty like that

Redman Smash Sumthin’

[Adam F]

Here come the remaining beautiful people

And for all of you who survive, we hope you enjoyed the ride

2002 will see some new added features

Such as – the Spinal Spinning Spiral Splitter

and – the Corkscrew Cock Cruncher

Plus, the Fat Fuckin Bitch Backslapper

And not forgetting – The One Finger Ringer

So, until next time boys and girls, goodbye!

Cunters journey home, toodaloo, ta ta – and FUCK OFF!!

From the “Rollercoaster Malpractice”


(Red-man!) They done let me out

(Red-man!) They done called my name

(Red-man!) They done read the four chapters..

.. now I’m back, Brick City, I’ve been born again

Master, hit the switch – Igor, he’s ALIVE!!

Yo.. set it off

Set it off, yo yo yo

Let’s start ridin, my flows bring the tide in

While John Cochran break your pride in

I shagged her before you married her

Took the ring, pawned it for an Acura

DOC, breakin the sound barrier

Hardcore bullet, fo’-fo’ pull it

Got your camp runnin, used it for footage

Brick City suspects couldn’t (?)

Yo, watch me leap through trees

Attackin sharks in the _Deep Blue Sea_

Aim lock on, _Goldeneye_

War in the snow storm, with double-oh on

U.K. blow your horns

Put you in, I.C.U., gettin blood drawn

Doc did it, off an Adam F bomb

I move like Robotron, turn the lights off!

.. girl she had a big FAT ass

.. we smokin weed tonight, we smokin weed tonight, c’mon

What I want everybody to do right now

is blow your motherfuckin horns

Louder, LOUDER!!

[Chorus: Redman]

Yo, if you want that shit (that shit)

That hardcore rough shit (rough shit)

Motherfuckers, blow your horns


If you want that shit (that shit)

That smoke and fuck a bitch shit

Motherfuckers, blow your horns



Yo, yo yo, from hunger, to hungry, to hungriest

Pack two cannons by the pancreas

Your whole camp enlists, abandon ship

Push your knuckles up and dance with it

I’ll shut down cops, steal they badges

Off of ‘Operation: Kill Da Wabbit’

PPP niggaz be jackin cabbage

Looked in the camera and pull the mask up

Laughin at ya – yeah I X’d you out

Somebody help him out with mouth to mouth

You to me son, what you talkin bout?

If your third eye look then I gorge it out

Bitches fuck me barely walkin out

For a thievin ass hoe fo’ mark it out

It’s one mo’ body in the hall for now

Verbal assault killer, calm him down

I open fire, made you retire

Hung your shoes from a telephone wire

So when I ride by, I brag on it

Paragraphs fly wit toe tags on it

I plant a bomb where you pick your mail up

It’s BRICKS, so y’all hit the fallout shelter

Doc, niggaz, bitches, jump up

Criminals, hustlers, hoes, jump up

[Chorus – 2X]

Redman Cheerz

[Ready Roc]

I said I’m..

I’ma.. great white on the mic, servin fishscale

Livin life like I co-star with Denzel

Hip-hop been my life since kids meals

Lee jeans, label blocks and Big Wheels (uhh)

Ever since then I’ve been a FUCKIN problem

Feelin like Bruce Wayne, and this is Gotham

Now I got them haters watchin

Waitin for my next hit like a nigga boxin

(And the NEWWW!) On this mic you can see I’m blessed

Some say I’m the (One), like (KRS)

Shoutout to Clue, Flex and Doo Wop

R.I.P. Big L, Pun, Biggie and Tupac

Flow so sick somebody give me a flu shot (achoo)

I’m well done, overcooked, too hot

A booth, ProTools and a MP

That’s all I need to show you that I’m a emcee (yessir!)

So you can chase the fame, cause simply

difference is, you a Beamer, I’m a Bentley – dummy!

Now wonder where I’d be without Funk Doc

So this toast goes to Redman and hip-hop (yo)

[Chorus: Ready Roc (Redman) {Melanie}]

Whattup Big Unc? (Whattup nephew?)

WHATTUP JERSEY? {Jersey, Jersey-ayyyyy}

(Check mic one) Check mic two


How y’all feel? (Drinks on me!)

NOW WHO THIRSTY? {whoahhh-ohhhh}

(Cheers! This ones her for hip-hop)


[Interlude: Melanie Rutherford]

This is my life – this is my life baby

We gon’ do it like this nigga


Yo, watch out now I talk like a old man

But still got that UHH like Jor-dan

Call in, anywhere I go it’s CHEERS

Cause they yell my name like Nor-man

Walk in, look cool

Flow like the ink pen got Red Bull

Feel like I’m school, back to the basics

Handcuffin hip-hop, niggaz start rapin (yessir)

And I faced it, it’s a new ballgame

It’s like when (Baby Boy) met Ving Rhames

Now that’s so appealin, the veteran

still trappin, I’m back in the building

Yeah I laugh when I’m yakkin to children

But it’s hard when ya boy lackin a million

I’m so brilliant, cause I work the Eastside

And do the same damn thing on the Westside (West coast!)

For hip-hop I’ma die – you fuck with it?

I’m O-Dog, I ain’t lettin that shit ride!

Whoever outside with a eardrum

Old people, young people, here it come


[Interlude: Melanie (Redman)]

This is my life (yo, watch out now)

Hip-Hop (yessir, yo neph’ I got it nigga)


Yo, aiyyo neph’ you can tell I love hip-hop

And me stoppin any time? I think not

Whip, the opposite of a hard top

Summertime, my rhyme’s in your droptop

Yeah, the LP is “Reggie”

I got the goods baby, I’m Don Ready

Ready, for any hip-hop freak

Even white chicks want black in ’em like Pernelli

Yeah, the rap game is star studded

It’s like the NBA, you gotta love it

[Ready Roc]

Whattup Big Unc? Watch nephew

sell more records than Wyclef crew (ill)

Haters watch me ball like the ref do

And still can’t get it right like a left shoe (hahahaha)

I’m ’bout to bubble like a Lex Coupe

“What’s my motherfuckin name?” like I’m Big Snoop

Ready Roc hear the crowd scream

Now my name hold weight like a triple beam

Wu-Tang showed me how to get the C.R.E.A.M.

I’m a microphone, I’m a microphone fiend


[Melanie Rutherford]

This is my life, this is my life

Hip-Hop, until I dieeeeee

Until I die, whoaaaaaa-ohhhhhh


Cause this is my life, my life

Hip-Hop, until I diiiiieeee

Yeah yeah yeah

Redman Dat Bitch

Yo.. (Fuck that nigga, look at her toes)

Yo! (You know you like toes nigga)

Bitches be talkin too much out here (God DAMN mami, you the one!)

.. Dat bitch, dat bitch (Nigga that’s that bitch right there)

.. Dat bitch, dat bitch

.. Dat bitch, dat bitch, dat bitch (Always poppin off at the mouth)

.. Dat bitch, dat bitch

Turn it up some! Turn my voice up some


.. Dat bitch (Where the fuck you at?)

.. Dat bitch, dat bitch, dat bitch

Funk Doctor Spock (Where she at yo?)

.. Dat bitch, dat bitch, dat bitch (There she go, there she go yo)

(Nigga there she go) Over there that bitch (Nigga there she go)

(Nigga here we go..)

Yo, dat bitch – the one that’ll shut her mouth

Don’t give a fuck if not my album out

Dat bitch, that’ll hustle too

Pull out the baby .380 ask, “Who the fuck are you?”

Dat bitch – that’ll go out like (Army Men)

Dat bitch – wrappin her hair in Barbie pins

When the pressure’s on, you’ll find a bomb in your car

in your trunk on the road to Arlington

Yo, dat bitch – the one that’ll take control

Brought me a 2-way when my pager broke

Dat bitch – that’ll love to fuck, take it in the butt

When the Doc comes, she won’t wipe it up

Dat bitch – that’ll whip a car better than me

Yo, dat bitch – splittin cigars better than me

Dat bitch – tattooes on her back and arm

And you see my name when the track is on

Dat bitch – that’ll jump out dolo

With her toes in a pump with a shotgun pump out

Dat bitch – that’ll roll proper, two phones

One for tricks and one for callin the Doctor

Dat bitch – that’ll give me brain when I’m thinkin

Dat bitch – that’s makin me more insane than a ink pen

Dat bitch – that ain’t scared to whup her kids

Know to bail Doc out when my ass in the precinct

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

Dat bitch, the one that’ll shut her mouth

That’ll keep it on the low what I’m all about

Dat bitch, when I’m on the run, she give me a gun

1 – Hide me out at her father’s house

2 – Hide me out at her momma’s house

Dat bitch, that’ll give me brain when I’m thinkin

Dat bitch, that’s makin me more insane than a ink pen

Dat bitch, Doc need a real bitch for this

go-rilla, rilla, rilla, rilla

[Missy Elliott]

I’m dat beatch, B-I, T, C-H

Won’t fuck a nigga until it’s payday

Make him think I’m in love, oooh baby

Fuck witcha nigga, makin motherfuckers hate me

Dat beatch – I’m in the classified

Dat beatch – make a nigga go and buy me a ride

Do you know who, I be?

I’m the M-I crooked, letter Y nigga

Bad to the Bizzy Bone

Quick bitch talk shit night long

I run shit, done done shit

Pop a gun shit, slap a bum bitch

Dat beatch – yo you heard it first from me

Dat beatch – ain’t nuttin but the same O.G.

Dat beatch – I’m, rollin and strokin

and jokin and workin I’m


[Missy Elliott]

Heyyyyy, you’re the only one for me


Reggie Noble.. keep it gangsta.. eh-hehh, mmmm

She’s the one, she’s the one, only one

Heyy-eyyy, lives her life, pays the price

When she keeps it gangsta, yeahhh-hahhh

Ohhhhh, yeahhhhahhhh.. [fades out]

Redman Nigga Like Me

Check it out

Redman [?] twenty two on a car tire

Ring bells like Mel’s Diner

I’m sharp hair made of barbed wire

Chemdawg, nicotine, for your menthol on Crenshaw

43rd fresh off the [?]

I got connects like SIM cards

I know hip-hop is part of my life

I love it like it’s my wife

My credit card that I swipe

True Religion’s all on my Nikes

7: 30 train wreck, brain freeze

I’m Capo, Marvel, got the Iron Man, Stan Lee

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I can’t stop like Diddy Boi when I’m grindin’

I hold down Brick City boy and Shaolin

These hoes rub they titties boy when I’m driving

My boys smoking that loud when we be wild’n

Sour diesel, medicate

Start a cypher, elevate

Fuck the hater, eliminated

These angry birds is feather weights

Hood down, street smart

With a cap ‘n gown, class clown

Failed math but graduated from a dime bag to a half a pound

90 era is harder

Orca out the water

‘For Wayne started the Carter

Before T-Pain did the auto

I had lyrics, nigga

Drunk as hell, I spit the liquor, dirt diggler

I kick it off like Monday night

Then run it back like Emmit Mister

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I get it, who can’t fuck with a nigga like me (Copy that)

I can’t stop like Diddy Boi when I’m grindin’

I hold down Brick City boy and Shaolin

These hoes rub they titties boy when I’m driving

My boys smoking that loud when we be wild’n

Copy that, copy that, copy that

WKYA where we support whores, hookers, thots, and [?]