 |
| Dr. Dre Chronic 2001 Ackrite featuring Hittman [Hittman] It's fuckin ackrite Question is - can I get some? Knahmsayin? Ackrite bitch When I see you in the spot, you just ackrite, youknahmsayin? When I yank you by the fuckin perm don't be lookin at a nigga crazy Just get with the digits and be the fuck out, youknahmsayin? Let me break it down for y'all It was just one of those days when I wanted to catch sunrays Fun to get blunted on a Sunday, afternoon Nigga ? got room, grab the gat for misbehavors and the chocolate faded boom, flossin hip-hop tunes Zoom-zoom like the Commodores Wonder will we have drama or, end up clownin whores Around the full good-to-go girls like them Barbary Coast girls, riding shotgun, baby I be postin all-world in The Ra Sippin 151 that gave me too much pride to back down Soon as we get to The Beach I'ma put my fuckin mack down I'm playin lead, not the background It's time to put Bronson on the map now Walk with my hand on my Johnson, crack a smile Cuties peep my style, if I don't get some ackrite I'ma have to ack-wild Chorus: sung by Hittman Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right Strap by my waistline, cause niggaz don't fight Sucker free for life, so you better think twice (Aight? And a give a nig' some ackrite) I'm the type of nigga playa haters don't like Snatchin up your honey for some late night hype And snobby-ass bitches get slapped out of spite (Aight? So give a nig' some ackrite, right) [Hittman] Uhhhhh.. drink kickin in, I'm stimulated For those that don't know big words, I'M FUCKIN FADED Eighty-three degrees, ease to a shaded spot Our first spot was cool til some gangsters made it hot Now we plot and pose plus we watchin hoes, with lots of flesh exposed gettin swarmed by those type of niggaz with no game but brown-nose So I impose only like pros can 'Yo, is this your man?' 'No.' Grab the bitch's hand, 'I'm Hittman.' Bling! Gold chain gleam 'You're very eligible for my summer league team.' Maybe too extreme cause the sister got steamed Then Miss Thing tried to scream on my brethern I got mad spit flame on the name Stefan, tattooed on her arm Hoe you ain't the bomb, must be a dyke witcho' lips swoll, and give a nig' some ackrite Chorus (minus the word 'Aight' both times) [Hittman] Frontin on the ack-rite, causin me to act up Good Samaritan save that hoe from gettin slapped up My homies crack up at the scene I made Yo my actions ain't serene when a nigga's on fade If it wasn't for the one-time brigade I woulda sprayed at the hooker tramp As cops parade I'm afraid it's time to break camp Make tracks, where else can we go to take hoes from fake macks {*CAR HORN*} aiyyo, chase them girls in that black Maxima, the passenger, almost fractured her neckbone, lookin back at us Plus, they on the dick cause the Caddy's plush They blush, I bumrush the hush, with the largest crush Try to swing an ep tonight so I don't have to keep in touch Keep it on hush without the tip-in Mackin interrupted by some niggaz set-trippin Clip in the strap, I showed these niggaz how to act Chorus |
Videos
|
Add
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2007-2009 LyricWorld.com, LoiNhac.com
© 2009 lyricworld.com, loinhac.com are two of a family of companies in the LmVN Group.