Wolf Tickets - The Click

Yeah, game goes on, nigga

And it ain’t no myth for the nigga fifth

C-L-I-C-K shit up in this house bitch for rich

I was told it’s a few hams out there sellin' them wolf tickets

Like they gold, tryin' to be bold

So we here to buy a few

Cash 'em in, check a chin

'Cause hogs play to win

So if you do a lot of barkin', can’t walk that walk

Take two steps back and look at yourself

Before you wind up in that chalk, nigga

17 from a broken down hood with no dreams

The only thing I knew was to form a fat team

The Hillside, just a small part of the city

Where poppin' ass gangstas flossin' like me

See I rap, but what I spit gets straight real

I serve no wolf tickets, nigga, I will kill

Any motherfucker that step within my boundary

When you fuck with me, you fuck with my family

Motherfuckers talk hard, but never hit the yard

When they car gets snatched, lil' ol batch

We can knuckle up, take it to the blind

Mainline livin' got me diggin, tryin not to catch no time

They got me locked down 'cause I made the dump

17 gettin' off, niggas bringin' funk

And ain’t no punk from the start

With no love and no heart

So nigga you can sing the part

Why is they barkin', knowin they know

Talkin' that irrelevant, fat mouth’n fa sho

And since it ain’t no tellin what Jack told Helen

What the hell is they sellin'?

(B-Legit: Wolf Tickets)

Haters, come out and play-yay

And I’ll be waitin' with my Chinese AK-yay

But you can’t have female dog bitch in your joints

Going all up out your way just to get them brownie points

First one to wolf that shit, first one to bone and scat like cats

Just not wannabe hard hoe ass niggas run in packs

Hatin' on a slusha; just 'cause he heard that

I was thinking about doin' me a Testarossa this summer

Yeah, wolf tickets is some silly tricks tryin' to be the shit

Comin' with that sicky-sing sing stupid ass shit

Soul Train’s about to pay me doe

So I can scat from Vallejo to the iggity-iggity O, ugh

It’s a gang of fools wolfin' tryin to get in for free

Sprinkle Me, you see me, Suga-T, ugh

Might wanna preciate some real shit, spiggity spit

But now fools be straight wolfin' it

I hate the transformin', bustas in disguise

Don’t really know what the fuck is between they thighs

To my surprise you’ve been sleepin' with the enemy

And at the same time drinkin' on gin with me

I cut you loose, wasn’t fuckin with the extra luggage

90-somethin and you just now gettin' published

But you wolfin' to the wrong cat

I got the hog on my back and body bleeders in my millimeter

A thir-a thirteen hundred block Magazine

40 cookin' cola, A-1, Ice Cream

Packages stuffed pineapple, yola, and greens

Had a basement full of choppers and triple beams

In order to spit this sort of shit you gotta know it

Seen it, did it, lived it, been in it

No more 7−11 turf burrito chimmy chommas

Now we some timers, regular customers at Benihana’s

Ha, ha, yeah I tried to told ya falsified ass niggas

That it’s goin' down, comin' up out that V-town

You see, funk is somethin' only a chosen few stand tall through

But as you can see we pull hoe cards

For them ho-harborin', playa hatin'

Mad at the world 'cause the game is passin' them by

Type naggas that want to be hard

So accept game and stop, look and listen

And quit lyin' to kick it

And cease on the motherfuckin' wolf tickets, you know!!!

Why is they barkin'?

Why is they wolfin'?

(Wolf tickets)