Song parody of

Where's Da G's

by Dizzee Rascal

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[Verse 1: Dizze Rascal] Liar liar, pants on fire, you're not gangsta, you're not street You just make yourself sound gangsta when you're rapping on the beat You ain't got yourself in no life-threatening situations yet You're no dealer, you're not balling, you just get yourself in debt You're a fan of hip hop, wanking when you hear them rappers talk Love to sit and listen but we know that you don't walk the walk What's with all the fake aggression, I can see that it's not true I know killers, I know gangsters, and they never heard of you You ain't robbed nobody, shanked nobody, you ain't bust no gun You ain't seen no ghetto action, who do you think you fooling, son? You should pull your trousers up, you know it ain't your type of look You're no playa, you're no pimp, I think that you should read a book And seckle, find yourself a pretty girl and settle You know that if it's on that you ain't drawing for no metal I know them rap songs got you thinking you're some kind of g Well if that's the case, then que sara and what will be will be [Chorus] Where's the G's? Where's the stars? Where's the whips? Where's the cars? Where's that cribs? And where's the yards? Cause all I see is hype Where's the dough? Where's the cash? Where's the hoes? Where's the gash? Where's the blicks? And where's the mash? Cause all I see is hype Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the TV Being real these days ain't easy Too many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I see is bare poop on the TV Being real these days ain't easy [Verse 2: Bun B] Well it's big Bun be and I'm back again, talking that shit on the track again Too many motherfuckers be lying about selling, buying and trafficking I'm like really though what's happening, you boys talk about that crack again? Cause we don't believe you, need more people, y'all might as well just pack it in Show me the paper you're stacking in, show me the blocks you got on hold Show me your workers, show me your shooters, lemme see the neighborhood you control Lemme see if you a boss, and if motherfuckers is scared of you And if somebody trying to take your shit, let me see what you prepared to do Are you ready to go to war? Are you ready to shoot to kill? Are you really gon' man-up or bitch-up? Just tell the truth for real Are you ready to take a life, walk up to 'em and squeeze the trigger I don't think so cause you ain't built like that, so just be easy, nigga Cause you know you ain't 'bout no drama and you know that you really don't want it So stay the fuck out of the way when them trill-ass niggas is on it Dizzee Ras and UGK, you know we stay connected Trill recognize trill, so just respect it and check it And tell me [Chorus] [Verse 3: Pimp C] Where the Benz and where the hoes? Candy niggas with candy clothes Where the cocaine? Where the o's? Where the SoundScan, where the shows? You's a pimp, bitch, where the track? Where the diamonds and where the Lac You say that you that you in hot pursuit But I ain't never seen you with a prostitute I got everything I say Don't believe me, ask Lil' J On the West ask Ice-T Fuck good but my dick ain't free So hood I used to whip the d Patron and wood when I'm in the be Sweet Jones, Tony Snow, Percy Mack, Pimp see Bitch, I got a bunch of names Getting head in the H.O.V. lane Getting red, I let my nuts hang Wear a lot of red but it ain't no gang Chased by the feds but it ain't no thang I guess they think I still sell cocaine Ninety two carrots in my chain Jumping out a red-candy thing Never snitch, never tell, get caught up, go back to jail Before I tell them hoes shit, fuck the law, they can eat my dick The main niggas that pop the trunk Go to the pen and get with them punks Then come home trying to act tough When they was up there getting fucked in the butt [Chorus]

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Where's Da G's

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