 |
| Ice Cube War & Peace Vol. 1: The War Disc Cash Over Ass Thanks to dj.flash@pobox.com for these lyrics. [Mack 10] Whassup Cube dog? I got this bitch-ass nigga right here Y'know, fuckin with this tramp-ass bitch Puttin her before the scrill' all the time, yaknowhatI'msayin? Man I got this nigga transcripts, and every-mother-fuckin thang Tellin this bitch all my mother-fuckin business Puttin ass over cash everyday Nigga fuck that, this Westside [Ice Cube] Be gone you fuckin peon, got the Don furious Talkin on the phone got the Federal curious I'm serious! I don't give a fuck where he is Snatch him out the factory, bring his ass back to me How the fuck you think I got the NAME Bossalini? Punk Mack God Rap Genie, you can't see me Up in this game ever since you was a lame Y'all train at my school, nigga I rule You never make me holla, smokin on a fifteen dollar from across the water, watch your daughter She might catch the Holy Ghost from this rap sermon While you vermin smokin Sherman, I'm rollin somethin German, bitch Money earnin makin mo' money (ching ching) Enemies look so funny, with they clothes bummy Don't need no honey, that's right Cause I'm thinkin with my big head, FUCK what my dick said! Chorus: Ice Cube We puttin cash over ass, each and every day Go on let the players play.. (the hustlers) (We some money makin motherfuckers.. I know that you love us!) We puttin cash over ass, each and every day Go on let the players play.. (the hustlers) (We some money makin motherfuckers.. I know that you love us!) [Ice Cube] Now who's that nigga got these bitches lookin silly? Me! I'm the Big Willie for rilly, the real dilly You can ask Phillie cause I got a year's supply (Yup!) You must want to die, don't get the lye after dark up at Griffith Park, shallow grave for the mark check his heart, the game about to start Big thangs automatic pu-tang (automatic) Keep your mind off them bitches, eyes on your riches If it twitches give it stitches If it jiggles or switches, fuck and take pictures, now I'm livin in a two-point zone, and I'm still bumpin Call me in the clutch, ain't lost my touch Nigga what? on the microphone If I drove it in the video, bitch, I can drive it home Tight as a Corleone You got to get your own, baby get on, now Chorus [Ice Cube] Get your ass up and go to work, cause you know on payday, nigga that shit gon' hurt Fuckin with a skirt instead of handlin your bizness Rich dude, now you got to make three wishes I'm suspicious, of any motherfucker puttin fuck over finance 'Specially fuckin up my plans I'm the boss, I can be late but you'll never see her and me, over currency Givin you the third degree, cause you got too many broke bitches and you like bankin for a penny Stop fuckin on them dum-dums Find one with some ass and some income Who wanna win? Who wanna spin? Who wanna make, twenty-five eight? Me Ice Cube the great.. pushin rhymes like weight Chorus 2X Never put that hoe, in front of that dough nigga For what? (Never... fuck a bitch nigga) For what? She ain't gon' love you if you ain't got no dough fool (Bitch fuckin with me got to be workin, gettin paid yaknahmsayin?) Gotta come up, scrilla scrilla y'all (Never ass over cash nigga) Scrilla scrilla y'all (We greedy) Cha-ching! (She can get some CD's, push some keys) Cha-ching! (Ha ha ha, make the bitches shake they tit-ties) Cha-ching, cha-ching! (Over my knee) Cha-ching, cha-ching! (Never ass over cash) Never ass over cash |
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.