Letras
You ain't got to lie to kick it (to kick it)
I know you like to see me doing bad
But I'm doing good
Fuck the police that's rolling through my neighborhood
Fucking pecker wood, see me in a five-speed (see)
I don't care if his motherfucking eyes bleed
This is my weed, this is my world
Don't get mad when you see them hundred spokes twirl
Candied out while you spent your last on a pearl
The Don Dada, I'm hotter than holy water
Wish I was your baby father
'Cause I got a fuckin' head on my shoulder (yeah)
And lead in my holster (fuck it)
Face on a poster
The kind of nigga that you want to get close to (uh-huh)
But you can't so you start to lying
Just like a nigga that think he dying (uh)
Get to crying, snitching and testifyin' (biatch)
To all my people left, I'm talking about your baby mama
When she meet Ice Cube, tell her save the drama
Yo, Cube, I'm gonna have all the bitches here
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
Yo man, fuck the bitches, they ain't call me back
But I just paged my auntie (you ain't got to lie to kick it)
(Uh-uh, uh-uh)
Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
Tell your cousin, tell your sister if she want me
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
I'ma be as real as I can with this (uh-huh)
Not just a fake analyst on cannabis
Who only say that the world is scandalous
Without finding out a way to handle this
Dismantle this, either with the rhyme or the fist
How the fuck we get in the belly of this bitch? (How the fuck?)
I'll be rich if it wasn't for this snitch
Lying to the enemies about conspiracies (uh)
I'ma say this 'til the day that I die (day I die)
Seven-35s bring on vicious lies
While you bullshitting, I'm hard-hitting like 2Pac
I keep spitting 'til my heart stop
Young niggas trying to tell me that I'm played
Once they say you played, nigga you must be paid (ha-ha)
Pushing weight since the tenth grade, do my thing
Got more plaques than Jordan got rings, nigga sing
Yo, Cube, I got the new Benz nine thousand (you ain't got to lie to kick it)
I got the PlayStation and the windshield
Nigga (you ain't got to lie to kick it)
(Uh-uh, uh-uh)
Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie
(You ain't got to lie to kick it) tell 'em
Tell your cousin, tell your sister if she want me
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
I hate to see your ass coming, with your mouth running
Talking 'bout something (what?)
That ain't meaning nothing
'Bout your second cousin, who be always buzzing
Wish she was or wasn't, who she now fucking
Stories by the dozen, plus you got the sequel
To let you tell it, Randy Moss is your people
It's evident, your ass lie like the president
With stretch marks on your mouth is the evidence
How the fuck can your friends be the Benjamins? (Punk)
And your little ass car's full of Fender-Bends?
There you go on the stand with your hand up (lying)
Testifying about a man that's in handcuffs
We should do you like the Mack said
And if he lie like a crackhead, pop him like a blackhead
Let him ooze, let him lose
Let him lie about his motherfucking ass on the news
Yo, Cube, check out this ring, sixty-nine karats
(You ain't got to lie to kick it) lying motherfuckers
It's kryptonite, nigga, kryptonite! (you ain't got to lie to kick it)
Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie
(You ain't got to lie to kick it) yeah-yeah
Tell your cousin, tell your sister if she want me
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
Tell your cousin, tell your sister if she want me
(You ain't got to lie to kick it) you ain't got to lie to kick it
Yeah, you know I wrote this, right?
Yeah, I produced it
Yeah, everything the brother ever did, I did
It's me, you can trace it back to me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I tell him how to dress
I tell him, remember, he had the jheri curl? I cut his hair
Yeah, that's right, yeah, I produced all his movies
We getting ready to do something new
We getting ready to do something new
Kind of like a Player's Club meets a Titanic
With a little touch of Fat Beach, yeah (you ain't got to lie to kick it)
Yeah, I think you'd be good in that, baby
I think you'd be mighty fine in that, yeah, yeah, yeah (you ain't got to lie to kick it)
Where to call me? Call me at
At Cube's house (my house?)
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't worry, don't worry about it (are you crazy?)
You know Cube owe me four million dollars
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)
If I let him wash my cars on the weekend
(You ain't got to lie to kick it) you alright, nigga?
Lying motherfuckers
(You ain't got to lie to kick it)