It’s the remix
I done been around the world, been around the block
Been around hoes that f#cked Biggie and ‘Pac
Like Vida Guerra, #ss took her to the top
She’ll give you some brain, you let her throw up the Roc
Let her put on your chain, she’ll throw you some cot
Picture that, like Meagan Good and Jamie Foxx
Hype said it’s a wrap, she still on the set
Puttin’ oil on her legs like she Gloria Velez
She was Eye Candy in the XXL
Hopped off the page and on a skateboard with Pharrell
I knew she (Woo) ’cause five hundred dollars
Can’t get you that, how you get that
And all these new video b#tches tryin to be Melyssa Ford
But they don’t know Melyssa Ford drive a Honda Accord
She a video vixen, but behind closed doors
She do whatever it take to get to the Grammy Awards, ha ha (Woo)
f#ckin’ them rap stars
You know who you are, put your hands up ladies
(Woo), if you kept your legs closed
But you know, (Woo), f#ckin’ them rap stars
You know who you are, I wrote this song for you
For you baby, I’d find you, for you and you, for all y’all
You finer than wine, baby girl I ain’t lyin’
Make my homie drop a dime
Commit a crime, jeopardize my lifeline
Just to see your vital signs
Ain’t no limit, babe we do it larger
Ain’t no limit babe when you a starter
MARTA outsmart the Rari, Rari
Fill the session with Bacardi Barbies
Kerosene, kerosene
Promise spin, washing machine (wishy washy)
Thin waisted prima donna
Never limit, I’m a stunner
Tinted out, them never rentals
f#ck them boys, they all beginners
I done seen and wrecked ’em
I’ma spend my night with ‘dem
I could put karats all over you
Karats all over you
Never mind, we only poppin’ sh#t
Man I been getting high with these fools
And she said all her friends fake, so she solo rockin’
And she a real bad bad b#tch, she ain’t gotta Photoshop it (Uh)
f#ckin’ them rap stars
You know who you are, put your hands up ladies
(Woo), if you kept your legs closed
But you know, (Woo), f#ckin’ them rap stars
You know who you are, I wrote this song for you
For you baby, I’d find you, for you and you, for all y’all
Uhh, Impala, uhh
Chrome hydraulics, 808, drums
You don’t want, none, n#gg# better, run
When beef is on, I’ll pop that, trunk
Come get, some, pistol grip, pump
If a n#gg# step on my white Air, Ones
It’s red-rum, ready, here it come
Compton, uhh, Dre found me in the slums
Sellin’ that skunk, one hand on my gun
I was sellin’ rocks when Master P was sayin’ “Uhhhh!”
Buck pass the blunt
These G-Unit girls just wanna have, fun
Coke and rum, got weed on the ton
I’m bangin’ with my hand up her dress like, uhh
I’ll make her c#m, purple haze in my lungs
Whole gang in the front in case a n#gg# wanna stunt
f#ckin’ them rap stars
You know who you are, put your hands up ladies
(Woo), if you kept your legs closed
But you know, (Woo), f#ckin’ them rap stars
You know who you are, I wrote this song for you
For you baby, I’d find you, for you and you, for all y’all
Black, and ashy, ’42 khakis
Red rag in my pocket
Throwin’ up Blood to any car that ever pass me
g#ngb#ng classy
Gold herringbone, mama said I’m too flashy
n#gg#s wanna jack me, tell ’em, “Run it,” like a track meet
On my DMX sh#t, tell my enemies to get at me
I’m from Compton where the b#tches carry ratchets
And n#gg#s in wheelchairs ain’t never heard of Degrassi
Raw hand, I’m gutter, Dre had to Aftermath me
Had a flow when I was a rider, Compton like Tallahassee
First album classic, second album classic
So I skipped the hoodrats and went straight to the Cassies
N.Y.C., top down, Big blastin’
Nas said I’d be a legend, n#gg#, don’t gas me
Hot in ’97, Funk Flex had to ask me
“How you make it out that beef with Hov?”
n#gg#, my passion
I was in New York the first time I heard “Dear Summer” on Hot 97
Top of the W Hotel, 54th & Broadway
Lookin’ out my window at Diddy in a Sean John sweatsuit
I felt ambushed by New York n#gg#s
f#ckin’ them rap stars
f#ckin’ them rap stars
f#ckin’ them rap stars
Rap stars
Rap stars
Rap stars
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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