Throw Up Ya Gunz

If you having girl problems I
Feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
I've got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
Rap critics that say he's Money, Cash, Hoes
I'm from the hood stupid
What type of facts are those
If you grew up with holes in your zapatos
You'd celebrate the minute you
Was having dough i'm like fuck critics
You can kiss my whole asshole
If you don't like my lyrics
You can press fast forward
Got beef with radio if I don't play they show
They don't play my hit's, well
I don't give a shit, so
Rap mags try and use my black ass
So advertisers can give em more cash for ads
Fuckers uhh (Check it out) uhh
Diamonds on my neck, chrome drop-top
Chillin' on the scene
Smokin' pounds of green
Oooh-wee, you see, the ugliest
Money hungriest, Brooklyn Loch Ness
Nine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test?
And the winner is

Y'all niggas know the rules
I blast on niggas so -

- my fist never bruise
Land-still-cruise, Frank White paid his dues
Ask who's the raw, bet they say Poppa very
Look forward to me like commissary
All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie
Done did it, come widdit
Get yo' head splitted
Or get your neck slitted, admit it
You overdid it
Your shit it, just ain't got that LOUD
Gold tooth shine like TA-DOW!
Biggie Smalls the illest and how
Phrase raise your eyebrow
By now you figure, he talkin' bout that nigga
But your weak-ass assumptions
Lead led to dumpin'
IV to pump-in, you're feeling something
Catch my drift, or catch my four-fifth lift
At least six inches, above project fences
Turn meat to minces, jumps turn to flinches
When I rain I drenches
Cleared your park benches (HAH)
Missed you by pinches
(HOO) your talk is senseless (RRUFF)
Actor needs chiropractor
(HAH, HOO) for cracked jaw
Yes I rocked, you tried to box (Hah)
Dangerous you're not I gets down (HOO)
Twist your body singing round and round
Upside down
C'mon, yo, throw your hands, c'mon
Bitch grab your tit's, c'mon
Let me know you in the spot
Bump your fists, c'mon thugs tote yo' shit
We bout to get mo' rich, c'mon
Let's blow the club, c'mon
Fuck the place up, c'mon shake yo' nasty ass
And make it swing all around, c'mon
Yo, make this money
Throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon
Bounce in your whips, c'mon
Bitch lick yo' lips, c'mon dangerous MC's
My nigga this be the shit, c'mon
Dangerous MC's
My nigga this be the shit, c'mon

I don't know what you take me as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I'm from rags to riches, niggas I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
Hit me beat Fades Out

Westsiiiiddee! Haha

Top Dogg, bite em all nigga burn the shit up
D-P-G-C my nigga turn that shit up
C-P T, L-B-C yeah we hooking back up
And when they bang this in the club
Baby you got to get up
Thug niggas drug dealers yeah
They giving it up lowlife, yo life
Boy we living it up
Taking chances while we dancing in
The party for sure
Slip my ho a forty-fo' and she
Got in the back do'
Bitches looking at me strange but
You know I don't care
Step up in this motherfucker
Just a-swanging my hair
Bitch quit talking, Crip walk
Stay down with the set
Take a bullet with some dick and
Take this dope from this jet out of town
Put it down for the Father of Rap
And if yo' ass get cracked
Bitch shut yo' trap come back, get back
That's the part of success
If you believe in the S
You'll be relieving your stress

All my niggas on the East Side
Throw up your guns
All my niggas on the West Side
Throw up your guns
All my niggas from the East Side
Throw up your guns
All my niggas from the West Side
Throw your guns up
Niggas from the East Side, throw up your guns
All my niggas from the West Side
Throw your guns up
All my niggas from the East Side
Throw up your guns
All my niggas from the West Side
Throw your guns up
Niggas from the West Side, throw up your guns
All niggas from the East Side
Throw up your guns
All my niggas from the West Side
Throw up your guns
All my niggas from the East Side
Throw your guns up
Ha ha ha, yeah nigga, Outlawz yeah, Thug Life
Ha ha ha ha ha, yeah
Energy makes plenty of enemies, you feel me?
Throw your guns up!

(Live Hip Hop
Live) Ain't got nothing to do with Old School
(Live Hip Hop, Live) New School, Dirty South
(Give Hip Hop, Give) West Coast, East Coast
This about us
(Give Hip Hop, Give) This our thing
You know what I'm saying
(Stay Hip Hop, Stay) This came from the gut
From the blood (Stay Hip Hop, Stay) From
The soul, right here, man
(I Pray Hip Hop, Pray) This is our thing, man