Got Cha Humpin' - Lyrics - Mc Eiht

Title: Got Cha Humpin'
Artist: Mc Eiht
Composer(s): Clare Fischer, Muggs A Tyler

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Lyric:
Geah, geah, my nigga Muggs in the house
Who keeps you humpin'?
Eihthype keeps you thumpin', always into somethin'
Westside got it going on, Westside got it going on

Who creeps in smooth with moves like Gotti
Trips to make grips and back to the party
Million dollar holler with the Jazzy Belles
97 makes moves with the freaky tales

Hold up, stop the presses
Floats to the club, show me love in little short dresses
From 8 at night till 6 in the morn'
Intend to get naked, try to put me on

Tick, tock, it don't stop, clock keeps tickin'
Pour one more and wait for the liquor to kick in
Lookin' suspicious 'cause you don't know the game plan
To the V.I.P., you peeps the G-span

Naughty as I wanna be, so check it
Drama to the women, I perfected to get naked
2 shots of the V.S.O.P. Remy
Converstions as I tugs on your bikini

Got to get it 'cause I've never had
Takes the party back to my pad, color me bad
Oops, I swoops up in the Coupe
One more pussy to loop, I'm knockin' the boots, geah

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin', geah
Westside's got it goin' on

Number one desperado, packin' the hollows
In a nice tight suit with Christy to swallow
Who's the role model? Bitch, butt naked on the boat
'Cross the lake, we skate with the heavy weights

Can you feel me? Surfs all night, be rich
500 super sport, low-low's hittin' the switch
Gots long dough, fo' sho', cops paid by the month
Weekly in the club, gots ho's to hunt

Gets mine, nose to the grind, makes cheese
Ain't never seen clean niggas like these
Still gots the connects, pulls China White from Muggs
Rolex, more sex by the Compton thugs

Senoritas and Peso's for the Amigos
Wherever the wind blows you're sure to see those
Heavyweight hustlers that got the cream
Chronic, snaps and bitches, the American Dream, geah

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin'
Westside's got it goin' on

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin'
Westside's got it goin' on

Makes me wanna throw my hands up
And holler, it all seems like a dream, how we gettin the cream
And still in Impalas, c'mon, if you gots the time, then I gots the time
Best not be that bitch, dropped dime

Stops my money flow, brings my money, hoe
Out the door, watch the pimp with the gangsta limp
Limo rides, Westside, I keep it crackin'
Thousand dollar suits while the Gators keep snappin'

Bird flies in, top dollar bitches to stab
Sets up nice on boom, bam ab, makes me laugh sometimes
Fine bitches and money makes me do the cha-cha, ooh, la, la
'Cross the board, money to spend, open the door, bitch, get in

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin'
Westside's got it goin' on

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin'
Westside's got it goin' on

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin'
Westside's got it goin' on

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin'
Westside's got it goin' on

Who got you humpin'?
Eihthype's always bumpin'

My nigga Muggs one time, c'mon, geah
Ya know how we do, ya know how we do
Come on, down like you live, get down like you live
Geah

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Humpin' Around - Lyrics - Bobby Brown

Title: Humpin' Around
Artist: Bobby Brown
Composer(s): Kenny Edmonds, Thomas Reyes, Daryl Simmons, Antonio Reid, Bobby Brown

Lyric:
When you trust someone
And you know you're on their back
You ain't got no trustin' about you

And you claim that you
Don't care where I'm at
You've given me reason to doubt you

Say you trust someone
Why ya callin' all around
Think I've got some dip on the side

Girl you don't trust no one
And you constantly in doubt
You lose the game
If you play that way

Get up off me back
Save your heart attack
Ain't nobody is humpin' around

No matter what they say
No it ain't that way
Ain't nobody humpin' around

When you love someone
And you want to love 'em right
Got to get more lovin' about cha

When you know
That you're holdin' on too tight
Soon they will be leavin' without you

Say that you love someone
Why you callin' all my friends
Thinkin' I got somethin' to hide

Girl you don't love no one
You don't know what love's about
You lose the game
If you, if you play that way

Get up off me back
Save your heart attack
Ain't nobody is humpin' around

No matter what they say
No it ain't that way
Ain't nobody humpin' around

Girl when you love someone
You don't call on everybody
Ain't nobody foolin' around

And the more I think about it
You'll lose all your clout and
You lose the game baby
If you play that way

Back to the BB Brown
Back to the BB Brown
Back to the BB Brown

My name is Brown, that's what I'm called so
Don't try to step on me wrong or you'll fall slow
'Cuz I just want to kick soul to ya
Maybe, baby, take control of ya, just like I told ya

I wanna roll on the tip that's moving
Able to make you move and groove
And leave you like ooh when I touch ya
Give you so much of the feeling of the deck
That I'm dealing when I rub ya up and down
Yo Stylz kick it

Well, I know it's been a while
Since you heard a change in our style
So what I've come to do is kick you something fly and new
A change, different from the typical a bit more than regular
Not like the others original, 'cuz originality
And creativity add it up together equals the B.B.B. posse
Yeah, we've in the house, yo kick it

Get up off me back
Save your heart attack
Ain't nobody is humpin' around

No matter what they say
No it ain't that way
Ain't nobody humpin' around

Get up off me back
Save your heart attack
Ain't nobody is humpin' around

No matter what they say
No it ain't that way
Ain't nobody humpin' around

Get up off me back
Save your heart attack
Ain't nobody is humpin' around

No matter what they say
No it ain't that way
Ain't nobody humpin' around

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Pussy Crook - Lyrics - Tarantula - Mystikal

Title: Pussy Crook
Album: Tarantula
Artist: Mystikal
Composer(s): Chad Hugo, Craig Lawson, Michael Tyler, Pharrell Williams

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Lyric:
Callin' all cars, callin' all cars
Be on the look out for a pussy vandalism, over
A pussy bandit
Suspect is known in many states for dickin' yo woman, over
He is dangerous, be on the look out

I knock the muthafuckin' pussy off the hook
Huh, I take the face off the rapper fuckin' with the punch master
The tight line sharp shooter, the handsome assassin 'cause word expert
You don't know nothing bout this come on mama and get you
Something braid it up pimpin', I make a shy cryin' bitch start swimming
Take it off put cha legs up, see if I can touch the kitty

Fuck it fuck it suck it, 200 dollars, bitch that ain't nothing
Show me what cha working wit' but if ya pussy smellin' shrimpy ho
Get yo fuckin' shirt and shit somebody better stop her
She runnin' round this bitch ha pussy smellin' like red lobster
That's the type of bitch ya don't touch
Some hoes you can look at but the rest don't fuck

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Somebody tell me the woman complaining talking bout I'm too sexual
But leave me alone with her, betcha I could sex the hoe
Fuck you like I ate my vegetables knock it down for an hour and a half
And still got dick left the door the man right chea
Fuck you on the floor and still shake the chandelier
I got it caught again somewhere
Stop that fuckin' runnin' and bring that ass over here

Bitch touch yo toes touch that wall work that pole
What you doin' after 2 am, in the hotel gotta give ya whatcha came for
Waste hittin' wash it off then face hittin' manojetwas I stay getting
If you can't work it then don't flirt you got them little bitty titties
Don't raise yo shirt I sort 'em out and some ain't stayin'
Take them fuckin' thongs off don't here wit' no plan I cut cha up
When I'm climmin' on ya throw it at cha like I'm a phenomenon

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

What the fuck you mean yo period done you can't gimme no lovin'?
Shit, it's time for funky fire boo hole pluggin'
She said, "I never done that stuff"
I said, "Well let me talk you through it, get the KY jelly"
Put a hump in yo back baby quit movin' yo leg
Get loose and relax lady she was actin' all timid
But the next thing you know she was humpin' back wit me
I was all the way up in that ass I was hard like a horse
She still wanted to do it fast, 2 hours and no part
Still talking bout, "Don't stop oh Lord"

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Dick don't fail me now
I knock the coochie lining out
If I hit it one time ya hooked
They call me the Pussy Crook

Callin' all cars, callin' all cars, suspect last seen
Headed East I 10 toward New Orleans, over
Be advised he is armed with dick, and striking good looks, over
Suspect is in a big truck excursion or Escalade
Or some shit he is in a big truck, over
Be on the look out leave all pussy inside

Gimmie this motherfuckin' money
Y'all motherfuckers ain't go never catch me motherfucker
The only thing y'all gone catch is this dick, you motherfucker
This a motherfuckin' nother KLC Smash, you motherfucker
Mystikal, Medicine Man, Big Truck nigga, over

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Strike A Nerve - Lyrics - Naughty By Nature - Naughty By Nature

Title: Strike A Nerve
Album: Naughty By Nature
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Anthony Criss, Vinnie Brown

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Lyric:
(Strike a nerve)
Yo bitch, it was some bitch in a seminar
Talkin' 'bout you, had to get up early to wax this
(Strike a nerve)
Them other motherfuckers said, you couldn't even wax that dirty bitch
So wassup y'all?
(Strike a nerve)

I get my daily dose of cha-cha-cha and "Shut the fuck up, ho"
Shit, shaved and bathed a day, then I must go
Ugh, this is Everyday All Day, let's all say
Pluckin' enough and roughin' 'em up and fuckin' 'em up always

Bet, let's talk about a back flash, ya jackass
That fast you flash witta match, your fast rap
And even though you didn't know me before the flow solo
It's no slow way to go, bolos I throw or sold

Let's pick a bitch to pick with peekaboo
I see you through your crew, now whatchu wanna do?
After that, caps off to the black frost
My pants always sag 'cause I rap my ass off

You wanna talk about a badboy 'Sanchoi'
I'm bad as they come, chum, and nasty like [Incomprehensible]
To Vin Rock and KayGee, I'm the baby
Droppin' the ladies, cravin' ya maybe, I have the right to be lazy

Got more stretch to my swing and the stretch of a chicken wing
The flavor is bacon and it's cravin', is ice cream
I'm too trucked to be fucked and too live, otherwise
Ya drive by's smuffler, word to the mother, my brother eyed

Runnin' and comin', drama starin' wit a stellar
I need so many lumps, I'll use your head as a braille book
Many friends ships ink, quick, fast
It'll take a dollar worth of gas to outlast your little tired ass

You tried to swing this way, you little swifty
Ha, ha, ha, slum bitches still miss me
I do the dumpin', humpin', clappin' like thunder
And that's comin' from a land down under

Yo, I'm sick of dis shit, man
Niggas tryin' to cut, they rocks none
(Strike a nerve)
Yo, they tryin' to make us drop
Vin Rock sayin' he don't rock enough
Yo, kick that shit

Prepare for the worst 'cause I ain't livin' lose
I wouldn't just give a fuck 'cause givin' is free and my fuck's cost
[Incomprehensible] your loss in The Source 'cause I know no way
I been there before, maybe 5-6 times a day

Sometimes I put my hands on my head when I'm done, from
And wondered to myself where did dat def shit come from?
And then I think about the Naughty and the Nature in it
And then the Flavor, then the figures, while I'm flowin' wit it

So I won't give up, stop, stall, quit, ya kitten
You can't touch this, fuck what them throats written
I got tracks, better known as snaps, far forbidden
And the warm do, I know, I know how to make ya feel it

I'll take a head, I'll make ya spread and now lay back
I tell you once, I tell you twice, Vinnie don't play that
So don't start, there will be none is the lesson, folks
I hate cigarettes but my Smith-N-Wessun smokes

From anywhere, from any corner, anytime that's right
Who you bashin'? I go blast in broad daylight
You stand hard, you look hard, yeah, your figure's soft
I got nuff props from buckshots that niggas caught

Ya say you can't go to the takin' me out close
Huh, in that case, you shoulda named your album 'Almost'
I wouldn't rely on the try if I was you, yo
'Cause I'm turnin' tries into 'Oh, oh's' and 'Hell no's'

I wouldn't be caught dead witchu up in tryin' it
And if I was goin', I get my stiff ass up and rip shit
I can't go out like a wooden sock with padlocks
I'll leave tacks tiny and slimy like snot spots
I write a day, to me it's a common caper
Say so much shit, huh, I write my rhymes on toilet paper

Yeah, Vin Rock, backbone of Naughty By Nature, y'knowI'msayin'?
(Strike a nerve)
That's right, so everybody sleepin' on the up, stay off of my dick
(Strike a nerve)
We're gonna stomp this time around, word up
(Strike a nerve)

Look who's mother's in the studio, thirty sons and daughters
Mrs. Happy Thing is in the back, catchin' quarters
Come and try to run wit it, never in a lifetime
Thirty [Incomprehensible] could act at Caesar's, still I bet I get mine

I heard your girl's havin' a baby, now will what she have?
A bag of dope, a bottle or crack or a sess bag
There ain't a part of me with 'Sorry' written on it, slick
You couldn't rock a crooked cradle, you fuckin' prick

The way I rock could shit, you just often like it
My style's so fat, I had to throw it on a water diet
Bullshit, ya not, I ain't the type to be fuckin' with
Wreckin' with and if I mic attest it, I'll be neckin' it

Onslaught at an encore, you stinkin' rat
You're so dumb, you tried to buy a fuckin' thinkin' cap
Now that tells us in a sec, right where your head is at
In between some bitch's legs, lookin' ass and lap

My name is Treach, remember this and don't you ever 'fess
That's a shame, I get two minutes just to say, "Next"
Fuck, who follows you, you and them could help each other
I treat you both like any other motherfuckin' runner
This is the Flavor, tasty although sugar-free
So have a Coke, have a smile and have a booger, G

Why? 'Cause you don't mean shit to me
I'ma take you [Incomprehensible] where good shit's meant to be
I rock a rhyme that'll be a straight up def track
Droppin' more shit than white castles and neck slacks

A studio to me is just a chance to rock, G
I rock and rock, goddamn, call me VinRocky
It's just what the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout
I say one thing and your whole crew's walkin' out

So do the lyric here, this is one lyric less
If I were you, I'd take and throw 'em on his fuckin' neck
Something that flow should come straight from the horse's mouth
Mr. Ed's dead, so his ass is the best way out

Shit, man for hire, this hitman is the law
I run more tracks than a San Francisco trolley car
Prepare for the winter, oh, yeah
I could write your fuckin' album and you'll soon be the last one there

I start to heat up and rip shit in one, see
You couldn't get it hard, if the eyes were on Broad Street
So don't you ever never tell me, I'm not good enough
I got more stuff than a teddy bear, from ass to gut
This is a solid, you could never outlast
If bullshit was worth a dime, you'd have a job in a cow's ass

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Hole In The Head - Lyrics - Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill

Title: Hole In The Head
Album: Cypress Hill
Artist: Cypress Hill
Composer(s): Louis Freeze, Lawrence Muggerud

Lyric:
Gangster Red, whassup yo? It's a Tribe thang

Madman gonna get cha, quick with the cuente
See a gang, no there ain't no jugate
Rollin' like a psycho with the windows rolled down
Who you lookin' at? You tryin' to fade me clown

Plato, si mon, you want static
When you reach for your gat to load your automatic
Boo-yaa, spittin' out buckshots
Homey say blood claat, so you can call a pig
'Cause no one could handle, I wind up and loco
Insane in the brain, you get the bullet

And a hole in your head, a hole in your fuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole the head
You get a hole in the head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head

Eight barrel pumpin', system thumpin'
See a fine heina, c'mon baby, jump in
I stop a cop, here let me tell you somethin'
Me and you, Bruca, we should be humpin'

If honey likes the mack, homey's got her in the bag
But there's vato's rollin' out, and they're stickin' up the flag
He jumps out with the sag, hey where ya from homes?
It's on, he sees him reachin' for his chrome

Buckshot to the dome, jumps in the Brome
Honey's in the back but she just wants to go home
But he trips to the store homeboy needs a forty white boy
At the counter's thinkin', oh Lordy, Lordy

Pushin' on the button, panickin' for nuttin'
Pigs on the way, aiyyo, he smells bacon
Dips out the store, one time hits the corner
And he hits the fuckin' alley like his homes was Pop Warner

Still had the forty, comin' at the alley
Seen the chief's son, pig officer, O'Malley
In the black and white thinkin' he's gonna check him right
Wrong, it's gonna be on that pig better suck a la chrome, P.D. 187

A to the motherfucking K
You know whassup Sen
Get your ass down and by the way

You get a hole in your head, a fuckin' hole in your head
A hole in your head, a hole your head
You get a hole in the head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head

A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby Doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, a doobie doobie doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, Scooby Doo y'all
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby doobie doo y'all

Six rollin' up and now he's really baffled
Brother's thinkin' damn, I never got this gaffled to' up
Beat down, down on the way to the station
Gaffled up from a false accusation, oh shit

Oink to the pen, you know homes the one that's where
The attitudes apply and where the punks'll be dined
Made a comb to a shank, I'm gonna stick ya
Wet ya, you know homes the picture
Yeah, you never been to jail boy, broomstick up your ass
And by the way

You get a hole in your head, a fuckin' hole in your head
A hole in the head, a hole the head
You get a hole in your head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in your head, a hole in your head

You get a hole in your head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head
You get a hole in the head, in your motherfuckin' head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head

Yeah, South Central and the West side teamed up
(It's a Tribe thing)
This is hell boy
(It's a Tribe thing)
Straight up
(It's a Tribe thing)
What side is that Red?

Can they kick it? Can they kick it?
Yeah, can they kick it?
I'm Sirnose and they cannot kick it

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