Lyrics:
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
Cash Mo-ney Millionairs
So take it there
Yellow Viper, yellow Hummer, Yellow Benz
Yellow PT
hoe's a sheep, and I'm her shepherd (Round 'em up)
I'mma make her my wife like she's from Stepford
I only dip my Oreos in two-percent milk (Soft)
I got
Yellow Benz
Yellow PT Cruiser, yellow 'Lac on rims
Drop yellow 'Vette and a platinum Rolls Royce
That's seven different cars, everyday I got a choice
The starter says OK,
And THERE THEY GOOOOOO!
It's car number 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, jack.
Jack? Hit me again dealer.
Number 10 has taken a lead around
Detained by two cops
Their energy fictitious
Looking for a victim
My car became her selection
Her mind was infected
You're brainwashed
You work for the man
basket. And
finally Oliver St John-Mollusc (G.C.), Harrow and the Guards, thought
by many to be this year's outstanding twit. Now they're moving up
OF LOVE
(Dallas Frazier - Clarence R. Selman)
« © '66 Blue Crest Music »
4-0-33
(Earl Montgomery)
« © '66 Combine Music »
Well the two new people
was eye to eye with a two-wheeled cop
This goddamn trouble
Ain't never gonna stop, never gonna stop
You see it didn't look good for your hero
at nightfall
(Grouch)
When the sun begins to dim
And eventually the day dies
And the mood prepares to sway
That's where another way lies
Glow of the liquor
a couple miles from around us
Roaches in the tray
Roaches get sprayed with the Round-up
Gas what I got an ounce of
Guess what, I could truly give 2 fucks
season goes
You having car trouble
You can push my shit
But I need that gas on the double
Blow that like a bubble
Liable to scuffle
If you fucking wit my
(Power of the people you say)
It's raw and keepin' you on the floor
Its soul and keepin' you in control
It's pt. 2 'cause I'm
Pumpin' what you're
at least a grand
Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats
But just
an attack by an unknown enemy
Huh
Yeah
Huh
Uh
.44 bulldog, my motherfucking pet
I point it at you and tell that motherfucker, "Fetch"
I'm fuckin'
a lot of houses and cars
Couldn't know which one was which
And finding me a chick and getting hitched
Living the fairy tale life perfect without
2 God that a PT Cruiser don't hit you
Cuz if i get hit I rather die by a jag
Or died in a fire fight lettin it fly with the mag
And jump out
an attack by an unknown enemy
Huh
Yeah
Huh
Uh
.44 bulldog, my motherfucking pet
I point it at you and tell that motherfucker, "Fetch"
I'm fuckin'
[The Grouch]
That looks good but what's on the inside?
What's on the other side?
What's on the flip?
Tell me what I get, is it all of what I see?
If
hataz
It be lookin so good that ima prolly fall in love
Money u bring me trouble
But I still think I love you
[Verse 2]
Shes as black as a African
up and knocks you down
The trouble with love
Is that just when you know where you are
You're looking for a getaway car
That's the trouble with
at nightfall
(Grouch)
When the sun begins to dim
And eventually the day dies
And the mood prepares to sway
That's where another way lies
Glow of the liquor
try to write these words
It bubbles to the surface
And that's where the trouble all starts
I wanna be perfect
I lose my mind five times a fucking night
respect me
Them killers all around me gonna protect me
And the condo is two floors
Sports car, fly shit, two doors
All I need is two slores and
I’mma use
to find, tell me how a gorilla can hide
The realest nigga breathin, ain't no nigga realer alive
[Chorus 2X: Royce]
Why'all niggaz in trouble (in
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