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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
Definition - gangsta, hustla, you know We make money, we eat, we feed Pay attention - (Beitch!!) Uhh, yeah, come on Uhh uhh, make some music Dogg House, you know Short Dog peep game, come on I'm ridin down the street, beat, feets got on twenty-tweets No beer-belly fool, we get it all for eats Cocoa Puff the green leaf, cloud up We some gangstas makin money, never been a scrub Whattchu know about sellin dope But the only thing you good for now, is droppin the soap Goldie Loc, Tray Deee, Too short, no doubt Tell 'em how we eat and what we all about, nigga These hoes know what's up, niggaz been havin game O.G.'s tell me real good, bitch I'm the same Motherfucker make 'em feel good, ya know my name Bitch, if ya still could, you'd do the same Made thirteen albums in a row Be like Too $hort baby and pimp a hoe It's so easy, if ya know how to get it You'll never be another broke-ass nigga We got, top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes We eatin sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios We got, top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes We eatin sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios Fuck a business suit, I'm out to where we juice Push the Bentley coupe and spend endless loot Runnin game from the brain or the stainless steel Pushin Holt's high-heels when we bang the field With the heat out, jack the whole hood with G-clout Invisible perimeters for niggaz to keep out You ain't got to ask what the fuck what we bout Whatever, get the cheddar than an nigga can ease out I used to be able to jump from the free-throw line and bang Now I bust and crush tracks, nothin really changed Except, twelve-inch scars on my body What I mean by that, I was hit by some hotties (nigga) Call somebody, I'm layin in this motherfucker bloody It wasn't because of my shoes, clothes, or money I was at the wrong place at the wrong time Paramedics don't know, I was a victim of the crime Just keep gettin that money mayne Fuck them niggaz, yeah That's how we eat We got, top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes We eatin sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios (Check it out) Don't be trick, you know these hoes so slick Do yo' thang and get rich Get wise, enterprise with the game ya got You could slang some rocks, but better change ya spot Ask anybody; I stay paid Most niggaz want pussy, tryna get laid Stayin soft with a hoe getchu crossed by a hoe I break a bitch down then I'm off with the dough I'm so hungry, I can't wait to eat I ride brand new shit down the street Life is a game of chess, who plays the best Is the last one that's laid to rest I know you wanna eat good - it ain't hard To be a real ghetto superstar Focus is the key - if ya want it, it could be If ya know where ya goin from the moment you could see, that's game We got, top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes We eatin sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios We got, top-notch hoes, y'all fools got crack-hoes We eatin sirloin steak, y'all fools eat Cheerios Catch me headed out west, Impala drive And when they see balkin and be talkin bout kalapa Too $hort, Eastsidaz, and ya boy Big Tig It's on and poppin now, but we wattn't always this big Wanted a Benz and a Lotus (what?) Whatever feels, sprayin Raid on the roaches I mean the whole damn scene was kinda hopless (whattchu mean?) Came home to it, then we flipped the notice Now we big crib livin, Rockland and non-stop With hot women, cop drops with rims that don't stop spinnin (whoo!) And it's just the beginnin (what?) Cuz as long as the game strong we gon' keep winnin Big Tigger, Too short, drops it so mean That lets us go get us a team of flatscreens Three cars, three cribs and three bikes When I drop this hot shit, I'm gonna cop three plus three mics Y'all niggaz better stop playin and get yo' game tight Too short, Eastsidaz, Big Tig oh boy Album number 13 nigga, y'all better stop chasin the cat Chase that money, well unless you know The cat got money (please believe it) this how we eat nigga! Let's go, oh boy
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