Intro: D-Dot and The Madd Rapper
Alright, Fears
Goes Out To My Brooklyn Niggaz
Dis how we do yo
For Da Bitches
D-Dot Vs. The Mass Rapper
I Love The Bitches
Verse 1: d-dot
Yo, can i get a whut whut...like jigga
Crazy cat
Dem fly niggaz, puff wit my niggaz
Went from a low income, to high figgaz
Poppa die now, cuz i supply niggaz
Yo...it ain`t my fault...it ain`t my fault
I got caugt, top of new york, like the war report
To the streets: thank you for your support
Verse 2: the madd rapper
Yo yo yo
I`m known to be the maddest, in the mc field
No respect in 9-8, in 9-9 its real
Got a big record deal, shippin` platinum plus
Hip hopperz and chart topperz, that be us
No more laughin` at us, no more back of the bus
Gettin` hed in the wip, high on crack and the dust
Too hard
My soldierz, locked down in da ??penz??
Yo dat brooklyn bullshit, we on it again
Come on
Hook: Scratched
Who Da Fuck Are You
D-Dot
The Madd Rapper
I`ve Been Conversing With The Madd Rapper
(2x)
Verse 3: d-dot
Uh uh, see i`m a rich cat, mansion and da yaught,
Dancin` in da hot spot, brancin` burnin` hot
I gotta 9v12 parked in the lot
Drop, shut `em down, open up shop
Verse 4: madd rapper
Yo, if a bar were a hundred dollarz, baby gimme some mo
If the pussy is all dried up, baby gimme some mo
Four o`clock in the mornin`, you hear a knock at da door
Madd rappers fuckin` your daughter, in the backseat of the 4
Verse 5: d-dot
Where my doggz at, matter of a fact where my broadz at
A little nigga, but all dat
Catch me at da hot spots, i dot, ice rocks
Bounce wit a bad bitch, twist her back in tight nots
Verse 6: madd rapper
So ya`ll niggaz don`t wanna play my records ha
Ya`ll actin like my shit ain`t as hard as john blaze ha
Fuckin` put me in yo magazine ha
Bitches don`t wanna give me my propz ha
Well fuck you ha
Hook:
Verse 7: d-dot
Yo, dey wann sip mo(et) on my livin` room floor
Jackin` my car keys and rippin` my range ro(ver)
Backstage passes, and broads wit big asses
Hed wit crystal and champagne glasses
Verse 8: madd rapper
Uh uh, i know you heard me on your radio
True
And you know i stole your stereo
Ooh
Times is hard, can`t find a job
Got wit 50 cent yo, showed ya`ll cats how to rob
Verse 9: d-dot
Yo, you don`t wanna play around, you don`t wanna play around
For 50 chips, i`ll lay it down
Pop number ones, and pop from my guns
Stacks for my daughters, and nots for my sons
Verse 10: madd rapper
Ay-yo hi my name is, whut my name is
And i walk around wit a stainless
Stay wit b-boy, i fly wit birds that are brainless
And one hit record, son i`m about to be famous
Hook:
