DJ Quik, Mack 10 - The Conduct lyrics

Ay Quik! (Wassup?)
Turn me up a lil' bit (Ah, fa' sho)
Westsiiiiide! Man, One-Oh (Mack)
How long they been waitin on this one?
(Shit, since the seventies) Haha!

Act like you got some class
And stop showing yo' ass
Sho' nuff, sho' nuff, sho' nuff
Baby mama mama mama

Yeah, you can catch me in the
Drop top 'Rari that's the meanest
And then hit the block
On some powder-coated zeniths
Pocket full of money and a snub nose toast
And I can't help it that I'm so West Coast
Can't explain mine, in shape for game time
Showed you how to shine and
Soo-woop at the same time
With a D-boy demeanor and a coke flow
And it's COD when the coke go (gone)
And you squares amuse me that
Give it your best then fall
And who need a group because
I possess it all and y'all love my wit's
Pull up and impress 'em all
A hall of famer Blood
I'm one of the best to ball
(Aw) And err'ytime they count
Mack out the picture i grab my nuts
Flip them haters off and get richer
Smashin up the boulevard in a red two-seater
Chicken Hawk, DJ Quik
And the shit off the meter - burnin up

That's how it's done, that's how it is
Niggaz lights camera action, this is showbiz
And Hollywood's too big a place to be dreamin
If you've had your dream shot
Down to the ground, you know the meanin
Now that's the conduct
That's what we all about
I had to learn to cut
You better call 'em out
And bring 'em right down to the floor
So we can give the motherfucker
What he came here for

Sho' nuff, I said
It's too much ratchet shit goin on around
Yeah yeah, baby ladies
Ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies
Act like you got some class
And stop showing yo' ass
Sho' nuff, sho' nuff, sho' nuff
Baby mama mama mama

That's Mack 10
(OH) , he's my constituent up in this shit
Compton to Inglewood
I think we need another clip
It's goin down like the helium's missing
Analog, that's the way I listen
I'm Louie V hoodie
(Mobb Deep) but I ain't (Goodie, oh)
I got a plot to get the dough
12 GA dot double lot hit the flow slow
Stick up or kick up daisies
It's our go, rhymin or stealin
Grimy killin, 21st century chillin
They quick to try to ask Quik how I'm feelin
I'm still a villain
In Hollywood tryna make my millions
The molly's good, got me
Stuck to the ceiling, i'm floatin high
And I don't research nothing
Nigga - I review it
I seen it all twice, I know how to do it
I'm movin that double the speed of light
Third passport
Poppin Ambien on international flights

I like legal tender, that's both of them
Money AND women, you know my gender
Now send her
I'm like Em, got a grip on my balls
Middle finger to the world screamin
(fuck all you hateful motherfuckers)
I smoke weed then I spray the Febreeze
Mix it all up like some fondue cheese
I'm FLY - and this should let you know how
I never wash my ass and my
Face with the same towel
Got niggaz in my hood that
Can't even buy gold
But swearin up and down that
They ballin out of control
You niggaz is fakin
(oh) , actin like they got cocaine bakin
With a fuckin day job at the train station
And they gotta reapply every
Year for that job
GET THE FUCK off my knob, nigga!
Because all you do is lie
I got a political prize
And every bitch that I fuck
With got big thighs wHAT? Huh huh fuck all!