Текст DJ Quik – The Conduct
Текст:
Mack 10 (Quik):
Ay Quik! (Wassup?)
Turn me up a lil’ bit (Ah, fa’ sho)
Westsiiiiide! Man, One-Oh (Mack!)
(Shit, since the seventies) Haha!
{Act like you got some class, and stop showing yo’ ass
Sho’ nuff, sho’ nuff, sho’ nuff, baby mama mama mama}
Mack 10:
Yeah, you can catch me in the drop top ‘Rari that’s the meanest
And then hit the block on some powder-coated zeniths
Pocket full of money and a snub-nose toast
And I can’t help it that I’m so West Coast
Can’t explain mine, in shape for game time
Showed you how to shine and soo-woop at the same time
With a D-boy demeanor and a coke flow
And it’s C.O.D. when the coke go (gone)
And you squares amuse me that, give it your best then fall
And who need a group because, I possess it all
And y’all love my wits, pull up and impress ’em all
A hall of famer Blood, I’m one of the best to ball
(Aw!) And err’ytime they count Mack out the picture
I grab my nuts, flip them haters off and get richer
Smashin up the boulevard in a red two-seater
Chicken Hawk, DJ Quik, and the shit off the meter — burnin up
Chorus — DJ Quik:
That’s how it’s done, that’s how it is
Niggaz lights camera action, this is showbiz
And Hollywood’s too big a place to be dreamin
If you’ve had your dream shot down to the ground, you know the meanin
I had to learn to cut, you better call ’em out
And bring ’em right down to the floor
So we can give the motherfucker what he came here for
Interlude — vocoder voice:
Sho’ nuff, I said, it’s too much ratchet shit goin on around
Yeah yeah, baby… Ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies
Act like you got some class, and stop showing yo’ ass
Sho’ nuff, sho’ nuff, sho’ nuff, baby mama mama mama
DJ Quik:
That’s Mack 10 (OH!), he’s my constituent up in this shit
Compton to Inglewood, I think we need another clip
It’s goin down like the helium’s missing
Analog, that’s the way I listen, I’m Louie V hoodie
(Mobb Deep) but I ain’t (Goodie) (oh!)
I got a plot to get the dough, 12 GA dot double lot
Hit the flow slow, stick up or kick up daisies
It’s our go, rhymin or stealin
Grimy killin, 21st century chillin
They quick to try to ask Quik how I’m feelin, I’m still a villain
In Hollywood tryna make my millions
The molly’s good, got me stuck to the ceiling, I’m floatin high
And I don’t research nothing, nigga — I review it
I seen it all twice, I know how to do it
I’m movin that double the speed of light
Third passport, poppin Ambien on international flights
Chorus
DJ Quik:
I like legal tender, that’s both of them
Money AND women, you know my gender, now send her
I’m like Em, got a grip on my balls
Middle finger to the world screamin (FUCK ALL YOU HATEFUL MOTHERFUCKERS!)
I smoke weed then I spray the Febreeze
Mix it all up like some fondue cheese
I’m FLY — and this should let you know how
I never wash my ass and my face with the same towel
Got niggaz in my hood that can’t even buy gold
But swearin up and down that they ballin out of control
You niggaz is fakin (oh!), actin like they got cocaine bakin
With a fuckin day job at the train station
And they gotta reapply every year for that job
GET THE FUCK off my knob, nigga!
Because all you do is lie, I got a political prize
And every bitch that I fuck with got big thighs
WHAT?? Huh… huh… fuck all!