They Ask For It

(album: Da U.S. Open - 2005)

Chemical Ali, my posse like Nazis
I call shots like Gotti, my designated hitters catch bodies
Crestland mad man, cutthroat kamikaze
Sicko, schizo, sneak Tommys in the party
And when the funk pop off, squares already know who shot him
Them boys sliding back to the Triple C on posi
Me see Sawyer Street like Big Daddy and Collie
And quick stretch a fly bitch out like Pilates
Chassis think a Mac spitting drag, then bitch try me
I'll have you in Miami getting a couple grand nightly
This some of that Thizz grill, battlefield, Country Club Mac spill
Come against my side and mayne, fa sho, catch a raw deal
For trill, cutt, pass the bomb kill
And I'ma steal on any off-ramp tryna wreck what we build
Nigga, this Mac da Mos, one toke overdose
You suckas can't come close
And if they do, caps get peeled, for real

They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
Shit hit like George Foreman, one dose and you're soaring
Cuddies buy rope by the pound, we never come down
Rip to trip or whoop a clown, never come down
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
Shit hit like George Foreman, one dose and you're soaring
Cuddies buy rope by the pound, we never come down
Rip to trip or whoop a clown, never come down

If I ain't drunk now, I'm finna be
I'm full of the Remy, ready to engage the enemy
Push the extremity, hear me, and don't let up
Use his bitch to set up, and then wet up
Nigga, shut up, you ain't got my mail yet
Get hit with the Kel-Tec, with the shell-catch
My bitch mail-fetch, sell sex, she rich
I check ill traps and will slap the bitch
So cold, my little niggas from the North Pole
Put ya in a chokehold and shoot up your Ford Probe
Apply force, we a mobile strike force
Put 365 horse in a tight Porsche
When my source gives me the coordinates
I sic 'em, get 'em, hit 'em with the pair of ordnance
You insubordinates get the cutthroat guillotine
Ya-da-dickmean? Nigga, this the killa team

They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it

Dr. Evil: Talk to the hand 'cause the face don't wanna hear it anymore
President: What hand? Talk to your hand?
Dr. Evil: You ain't all that and a bag of potato chips
President: What are you talking about?
Dr. Evil: Don't go there, girlfriend. Mmm-hmm
President: Whose girlfriend?
Dr. Evil: Don't mess with me. I'm one crazy mo-fo. I had to pop a cop 'cause he wasn't giving me my props in Oaktown. No? I heard that somewhere