Burn Rubber lyrics
Song information
Artist: Too Short Album: Married To The Game
Lyrics
Inside beotch Yeah you know about that, real players The real ones
[Verse one] I burn rubber on you quick as hell You need some toilet paper, don't shit on yourself When you see me rollin in luxury I won't fuck witchu, so don't fuck with me I'm just ridin, sidin, whippin and dippin I look at all the young hoes trippin It's no big deal when little hotties get hot When niggaz get jealous, somebody get shot You in love? might make you lose your mind That's why I run these gray girls, two at a time With no discretion, to me you're so depressin Actin like you don't know, my profession I look at them thighs, and look at them titties Take your ass straight on out, of sin city Wearin all pink just like hello kitty Bringin back all c-notes and no fifties
{*Scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}
[Verse two] Burnin rubber on these bitches, so fast. Burn rubber as you smash all fast Tell it like $hort, no ass, no pass All you santa claus players, be on your way With a bag full of toys on the back of your sleigh You hit your girls house, one by one Climb down the chimney, and give 'em all somethin You trick, don't come around me frontin Talkin 'bout how you pimpin givin hoes what they wantin You worse than a studio gangsta Behind closed doors, gettin his bootyhole spanked up You suckers disrespect the game All these video hoes out there spittin your name You love it when they make that, ass clap But she don't give me no cash, i'll pass it back ... I kick her where she stash the crack In the plastic sack, when she crash the 'llac Punk bitch!
{*Scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}
[Verse three] They tryin to give the rap game to some real punks It's just like when disco, killed the funk Can't tell me nothin, when I know i'm right Like a bowlegged bitch with a overbite, that suck it right Player this pimp don't lie How many porn stars you know that went to crenshaw high? A lot of fuckin for a whole lot of nuttin You just wannabe noticed so you're out there sluttin I never really cared about popular fame It's all about sittin on top of the game So don't stop 'til your panties drop Fuck the mayor, the preacher, and a cop You better tell him what it cost, get his mind on track Cause he look like he lost Bring him back, and dig in his pockets quick Steal his watch, and make sure he got a drop, beotch
{*Scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}
[from http://lyrics.doheth.co.uk]
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