Smack This b*tch lyrics

[Intro: Kurupt]
All you despicable b*tches
It's Kurupt Young Gotti, man
And I got somethin' to say to all you
Despicable, b*tches, Black Knights
What y'all think about them hoes?
What y'all got to say about all these hoes?
b*tch, Kurupt Young Gotti, Black Knights

[Hook: all (Kurupt)]
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(b*tch, make me rich)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(b*tch, you b*tch, you b*tch)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Yeah b*tch, won't you make me rich?)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Yeah, yeah, b*tch, b*tch)

[Crisis]
Could it be, I'm p*ssy drunk wit Monk, comin' home at sunrise
Wit a reputation of f*ckin' hoes the first night
Plus ya first page came at 12:35
Never returned a call, so duplicate 'bout 30 times
So now you talkin' loud, actin' wild, showin' out
Hoppin' all in my face, talkin' bout it's goin' down
You got the game f*cked up, you better slow it down
Or catch an open palm, you better get it calm
I don't know what you been smokin' or sippin' on
That got you trippin' on, a n*gga, but you flippin' on
A n*gga at the wrong time, cuz I ain't on one, I'm on nine
Shots of Henny straight, no rocks, look I know it's your spot
But I ain't in no mood for attitude, b*tch, where's ya gratitude?
[Doc Doom]
Trick, I'm tired of you always flippin' the script
Every time a n*gga out, you think I'm trickin' my di*k?
I kick ya ass if catch you keyin' my whip
Trick, I'm not of the n*ggas that you used to f*ck wit
Like the n*gga Reese you burned wit a pot of hot grease
While he was 'sleep, you would of been dead if that was me
That's on the Black Knights Gang, it ain't a small time thang
I got a wife at the tilt, you just my part time game

[Hook: all (Kurupt)]
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Yeah b*tch, b*tch, make me rich)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(I'm quick to tell a b*tch to eat up a di*k)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(I'll slap the sh*t outta goofy ass b*tch)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(A goofy, stupid, groupie, b*tch)

[Monk]
It gotta be, she always stirrin' up an attitude for nothin'
Frontin' like she mad and sh*t, on some stupid sh*t
I hear the hot sh*t, pump ya brakes, I'm not in the mood
Relax b*tch, you trippin', losin' ya cool
For the price of an argument, to f*ck up my high
f*ck up my day, it ain't goin' down that way
Cuz something's gon' make me smack yo ass (b*tch!)
Mad cuz our splashed don't trick cash
Don't give a f*ck, roll wit my n*ggas, Bar Mitzvah sl*t
Phones stay off the hook, now ya ass is fed up
Disrespect my click like we don't keep it crunk
Stay in ya place and keep ya ass outta my shoes
Hit the road b*tch, if you can't follow the rules, so what you choose?
[Crisis]
It might be the P.M.S., it might be the alcohol
It might be the fact that the Black Knights about to ball

[All (Kurupt)]
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(b*tch, b*tch, make me rich)

[Monk]
It could be the naggin', it could be the braggin'
It could be the fact she hatin', cuz the nights splashin'

[All (Kurupt)]
Something's gon' make smack this b*tch
(There b*tch, you gots to skitz kadaf, it)

[Doc Doom]
You short on chips, runnin' her lips
Don't wanna share the pus*y wit the rest of the click, but

[All (Kurupt)]
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Yeah I know that b*tch, that b*tch ain't sh*t)

[S. Man]
I f*ck hoes for the squirtin' any season
African, Korean, European, Polynesian
No further reason to lessen my capacity
From the scrotum, cuz the nut gush it gradually
I'm S-man, tastefully delicious
Spittin' my game, gracefully, the b*tches
I meant to step, the ladies pimp, the Don Peter
380, concealin' 'Gnac, pus*y beater
b*tch bring a heater if it's cold outside (bi-atch!)
You better walk if I want at to ride (bi-atch!)
Fly like a bird if you wanna be free
Cuz I hate hoes, and hoes hate me
Lately, I've been watchin' you, watchin' me
Ain't no stoppin' me, from gettin' this pus*y for free
Cuz pus*y's made to be poked, don't be afraid of the stroke
[Warcloud]
Now I'm big Warcloud from the L.A. streets
Swing a timepiece, last name: Concrete
I crack a crystal coconut, cruisin' with a silly b*tch
Smellin' like cigarette, high, we drove by
Apple martini's and tic tac, forget that
She's wearin' so much make-up, if I slap her, her face will shatter
Riffraff fiddle sticks, Huck Finn the lawyer
I make her paint the fence like her name was Tom Sawyer
Dirty, beggy Thatcher, I'm great like Joe DiMaggio
I used to write books by a soda pop and the Cosby Show
I push a girl down real hard and watch him laugh
His smile so twisted the world will feel the draft
Young, and the Rocky just shootin' at tin cans
Goofy b*tch said something that made me mad (b*tch!)
Gray jackrabbit, black boxing gloves, so love
I smack you like a toucan, swattin' a turtle dove (goofy b*tch)

[Hook: All (Kurupt)]
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Yeah, I'mma end up puttin' somethin' in this b*tch right here)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Oh man you see that b*tch over there)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Say b*tch, don't you owe me some bread)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(Yeah, b*tch, b*tch, b*tch, b*tch, give me some head)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(I ain't got money for you, n*gga)
Something's gon' make me smack this b*tch
(b*tch, shut up, shut up, b*tch)

[Outro: Kurupt]
I know you b*tch, you ain't nothin', ain't never been nothin'
If you was a quarter, b*tch, you already broken down to a penny
You b*tch, yeah, yeah, now go out there and get by bread
'For I slap the wig off of ya