Suicide - Jim Jones, Ryder, Sen City

I got young niggas that bust for me, fly girls that lust for me

Valet pulling that truck for me, big 40's still tucked on me

Red bottoms, red Jordan’s

Hopin' out and they cheer for me

Dumb wippy, the little punts got one wish with a lot of ice on it

One chick outta sight, bitch the bomb like dynamite

She like girls that like girls, my one bitch, she not a dyke

Wutchu call that?

She got a man but he outta sight

She bags bitches, I mean bad bitches

That bad bitch’s got fire tonight

Count that up

Start her up with that Polo tickin'

Damn (what happened next?)

Then she snapped when that Molly kicked in

She couldn’t wait just to swallow dickin'

That’s the girl, I mean she’s a freak

If you had to ask what was my description

Picture nas-nasty girl (nasty girl)

She trained to go (she trained to go)

How you work that thing?

Up and down the pole

I’m a I’m a pack that thing (pack that thing)

And let it blow (and let it blow)

I te-te-tell 'er go girl, go home

Yea bitch, throw that

She learned the way to make 'er talk like that

He geesses on the chain, all heavy gunners

In the caddy ready blowin' purple silly, let it loose

Gu-gu-gutter nigga, they know it

Pussy poppin', she rollin'

Bag the bitch, they had to blast the bitch

So I could smash the bitch, now she open

Got the baddest bitch deep throatin'

Boy comes stack a whip and we blowin'

Tiffin to the highest shit but not styly shit

And all the master bitches be on it

Come to glue droop me, they too thin

Any nigga pottin' get 2−30

Cut the bullshit, I really do this

I’m gonna chop their hearts 'til I boom off

Get the nasty girl with that nasty

I better bust 'er ass and she woo’d out

She’s top New York for my caddy

And a thirsty ride, bitch cool out

(Bitch cool out, bitch cool out)