You Do, I Do

Ha, yo, this ain't nothin' but rough shit, yo

I don't think y'all niggas can keep up with this

Fuck all you motherfuckers

Fuck y'all

I don't think they can get with it

It's too much shit goin' on

Ayo, I was chillin' up, hoomp dog deluxe

Rockin', donning a G with the rooftop cut

I'm a grown man, don't got no time for games and stuff

I got balls that'll beat you all in twenty-one rough

Look at my face, Doc's the name, don't forget it

I make Jamaicans scream, "Bow!" like my name's Riddick

I get sick with it, read dick with it

I had a nine-inch slugger before your stank bitch bit it

I bet a clip of crack that y'all cats is wack

Abrasive to Ajax, so send that through fax

Reservoir, Zsa Zsa Gabor when I was four

Explore whores when Ra came through the door

You never seen before, live to your hood

My stage shows leave niggas vexed like rosewood

When I drop the filth, whether big or built

A dog fuck the shit out a bitch off Tiger Milk

You drinkin', I'm drinkin'

You smokin', I'm smokin'

You freakin', I'm freakin'

You fuckin', we fuckin'

You fucked up, we fucked up

We make it, we take it

You hate me, I hate you

You talk shit, I talk shit

In the flesh, I be the E, countin' mounds of cash

Not many baller niggas out there can touch my stash

Or touch the S-Class, the 5-double-0

Sittin' on Pirellis, chrome, the big 2-0

Catch the picture, my whole rap steez is deep

For all you fake dudes, I'm the only show to peep

Last week, I was uptown, playin' the streets

Stop upon one-five-fifth to get (Buddah)

That's what I do when I roll dolo, I call a bitch

Most the time, if I ain't doin' that, I ain't doin' shit

I might go to the studio and make a hit

Or call my baby's moms, and hear her talk shit

I scoot by, get my kids, niggas, please

We hit Toys "R" Us and then Mickey D's

And go to a movie to end the day

And talk to 'em and take 'em back around the way

And that's real

You drinkin', I'm drinkin'

You smokin', I'm smokin'

You freakin', I'm freakin'

You fuckin', we fuckin'

You fucked up, we fucked up

We make it, we take it

You hate me, I hate you

You talk shit, I talk shit

Well, it's the fly Gemini, meat and potato, cut and dry type of guy

Well known but still just gettin' by

And I verify mathematics don't lie, nigga

Put in some work and get a piece of the pie

It be the niggas that don't immediate pertain to the situation

That be tryna come up off the chips that niggas makin'

And always worried if I'ma diss you

You insecure bitch, and to the government, stay out my shit

Niggas was glad when I came with the keys to the chains

To the cell blocks, to the stage, now it's time to rock

I return like I never left, D-E-F

Got the whole world gaspin' for breath

We got these hoes spreaded out like mustard

I asked Flavor and Chuck, they said, "Yo, don't trust it"

No, no, no, no

We're back on WDEF

And now we're taking calls from our listeners

Caller number one, you're on the line

This is Monisha, and Reggie left his shit at my house last night

Nah, bitch, don't call here with that shit

Reggie got plenty fuckin' hoes

And he probably left somethin' at they house last night too

Get a life, bitch

Next caller

Yo, what up? This Debra callin' from East Point, Georgia

And I just wanna let you know that when

Eric down here, he be trickin' too

And I got a baby by him, so he is my baby daddy

Girl, you and how many other tramps?

Get a life, bitch

Can we get the last caller on the line?

Yeah, uh, this is Michael Taylor, attorney at law

Calling in reference to an incident occurring

At Mr. Keith Murray's last performance

My client wishes to press charges

I need to speak to someone about his whereabouts

Yeah, aight, speak to my friend Tone