imma bust her in my new car uh in da backseat in da backseat in da backseat imma bust her in my new car uh in da backseat in da backseat in da backseat
mayne Bumpin' this old school We keep it so true I'm in the fast lane, doin' 'bout twenty, holmes Repeat Chorus [Verse 2: Baby Bash] I backs out from
's my only friend Remember when we used to park On Butler Street out in the dark Remember when we lost the keys And you lost more than that in my backseat
if I come off soft Then chew on this! Are you scared? Devil without a cause And Im back with the beaver hats And Ben Davis slacks 30 pack of Strohs 30 pack
and the firm handshake A certain look in the eye, and an easy smile You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to So that when they turn their backs
whole fuckin' LP, G Style, the gangsta talk Never near soft, hard as a knockout 'bout It's no sellout, I keep crime in my rhyme 'Cause it's my thing, packed
your money, whip ya hair Executive branch blow my smoke like a player Yeah, in the club, yes, it cracks Cute little mama, but they stack with backs
the eulogy After that I usually, bumped into her shoppin' for jewelry Her bodyguard screwin' me, I gave her my math Ain't nothin' new to me, blowin' backs out, six-pack
spot And see tonight we have a packed house We are in the building And ita??s rocking like a crack house All the sexy woman Wearing dresses with there backs
NEEK] I escape from outta state I gotta date with big scrilla the top billa, lampin rockin mansion and a villa punany killa o' mighty dealer with mean stacks and green backs
Run up on him, snatch the bag of money, then bust the dummy 'Cause my man when I think of a plan there's no shorts take 'Cause I pack jammies inside
Fugees We them locksmith boys, we keep a few keys Caterpillar pimp, that butterfly whores Lamborghini spreewells, butterfly doors Somethin' like Mcdonalds when I move in packs
juggling jobs guzzling jugs So here's a toast to federal checks Hetero sex unaffordable medical debts huh We travel in packs and ravel in facts
heal each other And although it seems heaven sent We ain't ready, to see a black President It ain't a secret don't conceal the fact The penitentiary's packed
fuckin' with me is a felony I'm crushin', tell you suckers to start hushin' Shush, no discussion, 'cuz I'm-a start rushin' The payback and I attack the pack
glock in my brain that baffle weapons inspections like Saddam Hussein and rocks with the impact Gettin beat with socks filled with ten-packs of tokens Men's backs
You ain't even gotta ask I luv this shit The club is packed, the bottles is poppin We make it rain when them models be droppin mayne (I Luv That Shit) Ladies shakin they backs
