Ras Kass, Dina Rae, Busta Rhymes - The Whoop lyrics
[Ras Kass, Dina Rae, Busta Rhymes - The Whoop lyrics]
All my niggas all my bitches
Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool
You know my style, get crunk
Bitches bounce niggas bounce
And let me give you that funk shit blunt shit
I spit that, super ugly, take over ether
Talk from my urethra and piss out the speaker
Beef cocking the heater
Meet greet and defeat ya
The glitch in the matrix busting’ nuts on
(zeta?) add insult to injury when I see ya
Like Ike buying his ex-wife Tina
White wife-beaters
YNV the Louie Vuitton stripes on
My Kobe to Adidas red wine and Vicodin and
Break your motherfucking FEMA
Team of, the future, Golden
State, NWA 2K Trey, hold-up wait
We bubble two if we fucking wit you
Blow that eight
Just fifty get with me bitch hit me like boo
Just stick me, slick risky but true
Keep my money on my mind (mind)
My mind on my grind
My grind on my nine I put that on my mama
It gotta, Rock in the ring (bigger than what)
Bigger than WWE Smackdown
So fuck karat’s (carrots) chain got rabbit's
Same bad habit's
Aim to live lavish so back down
All my niggas all my bitches
Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool
You know my style, get crunk
Bitches bounce niggas bounce
And let me give you that funk shit blunt shit
While a nigga bang outcha trunk
Street-slang ought to talk a lotta
Tell police sirens and coppers
Club pack cause the beat is hotter
If you go real deep than Imma
Bid your whole, over style
So what you know about
Pass the Courvoisier, Busta show me how
Canary-yellow diamond, the Goldyn Chyld
Bitch play like a jock strap on
Hard dicks and hold me down
Pound-for-pound, I spit rounds the sickest
(gold pound) in case foes forget whose
Artwork is the quickest
‘Cause when I draw, huh
Ain’t to paint the town red
I’m too sexy to be dead
‘Bout to sell a couple million unit's
Host MTV, renegotiate for 13
Put the babies through college
Then expose how many of you
So-called rap stars is garbage
And that’s logic, Doc Dre got us
Grow some more than movies
About spiders, Jedis, and hobbit's
Hip-hop’s hottest
Can’t front, I’m not as modest but promise
To spread over this bread like Blue Bonnet
(holla)
Nothing but the heat and put it
(RK: hop in ya)
Strictly for the street and put it
Out the cut doc Dre
Ras Kass bus-A-Buss
(BR: All my bitches)
Dr dre-"Whoopty Whoop, Nigga what"
I walk on mouse traps just for the cheese
Can’t fuck with a chick 'less
You giving her three bees
Back-rubs, blow jobs, and breakfast in bed
But rather Bill Gates and get breaded instead
Fly nigga, vocally, he ain't as dope as me
My shit don’t stank, bitch please
I piss popery
You know how it supposed to be
In your City high
Rubbing the thighs of Claudette Ortiz
Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool
You know my style, get crunk
Bitches bounce niggas bounce
And let me give you that funk shit blunt shit
I spit that, super ugly, take over ether
Talk from my urethra and piss out the speaker
Beef cocking the heater
Meet greet and defeat ya
The glitch in the matrix busting’ nuts on
(zeta?) add insult to injury when I see ya
Like Ike buying his ex-wife Tina
White wife-beaters
YNV the Louie Vuitton stripes on
My Kobe to Adidas red wine and Vicodin and
Break your motherfucking FEMA
Team of, the future, Golden
State, NWA 2K Trey, hold-up wait
We bubble two if we fucking wit you
Blow that eight
Just fifty get with me bitch hit me like boo
Just stick me, slick risky but true
Keep my money on my mind (mind)
My mind on my grind
My grind on my nine I put that on my mama
It gotta, Rock in the ring (bigger than what)
Bigger than WWE Smackdown
So fuck karat’s (carrots) chain got rabbit's
Same bad habit's
Aim to live lavish so back down
All my niggas all my bitches
Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool
You know my style, get crunk
Bitches bounce niggas bounce
And let me give you that funk shit blunt shit
While a nigga bang outcha trunk
Street-slang ought to talk a lotta
Tell police sirens and coppers
Club pack cause the beat is hotter
If you go real deep than Imma
Bid your whole, over style
So what you know about
Pass the Courvoisier, Busta show me how
Canary-yellow diamond, the Goldyn Chyld
Bitch play like a jock strap on
Hard dicks and hold me down
Pound-for-pound, I spit rounds the sickest
(gold pound) in case foes forget whose
Artwork is the quickest
‘Cause when I draw, huh
Ain’t to paint the town red
I’m too sexy to be dead
‘Bout to sell a couple million unit's
Host MTV, renegotiate for 13
Put the babies through college
Then expose how many of you
So-called rap stars is garbage
And that’s logic, Doc Dre got us
Grow some more than movies
About spiders, Jedis, and hobbit's
Hip-hop’s hottest
Can’t front, I’m not as modest but promise
To spread over this bread like Blue Bonnet
(holla)
Nothing but the heat and put it
(RK: hop in ya)
Strictly for the street and put it
Out the cut doc Dre
Ras Kass bus-A-Buss
(BR: All my bitches)
Dr dre-"Whoopty Whoop, Nigga what"
I walk on mouse traps just for the cheese
Can’t fuck with a chick 'less
You giving her three bees
Back-rubs, blow jobs, and breakfast in bed
But rather Bill Gates and get breaded instead
Fly nigga, vocally, he ain't as dope as me
My shit don’t stank, bitch please
I piss popery
You know how it supposed to be
In your City high
Rubbing the thighs of Claudette Ortiz