I Don’t Wanna Party Wit U lyrics

by

AMG


[Intro]
Well...check it out
I done found out that's there a fine line between being brilliant (uh-huh)
And being plum loco (oh fo' sho', hell yeah)

[Verse 1]
Get back, get forward, get raised, get lowered
Do some extreme sh*t, keep from being bored
Now it's double up, hoes come a nickel a dozen
They get hot and get f*cked and don't remember from buzzin'
That's why you don't see me, I ain't at the club
I'm chillin' with my homies in the city of Hub
Because they needin' more than that ho (than that ho) the big fat ho
Tryin' to get every ballin' n*gga in the saddle (yee-ha!)
Lap dance, fat chance, hot pants, you the man
Nowadays you can't tell, watch the crotch, it may swell
You needs a pap smear; you need to know
If you got an STD, some little critters in your trap, dear
Get on, me and my homies is indivisible
And don't floss money, looks better when it's invisible (yes)
We get props from Wall Street to y'all street
If ya missed it, I stay consistent (Why?) We got heat
C-P-T style, O-G me style
The D-J, Q-U-I-K with no C style
In yo' town, don't trip n*gga, it goes down
And when you see me in all blue, you gon' frown
But I'm bridging the gap, I'm rigid with rap
Money or respect? b*tch, I'd rather have the digits than daps (tell 'em)
So give me the haps, do you want the meat or the scraps? (c'mon)
Put heat on my naps, and now my hair look sweet on my lap (always)
'Cause it's the same thang tryin' to kill the gangbang
Set examples for the kids, on how to maintain
Never be a lame brain; y'all ain't gotta feel the same pain
That put a n*gga like me on the mainframe
Bow down, back up n*gga, I'm hot now
And don't try to resuscitate me, when I'm shot down
Just call my homie Theo on the radio
And let him know his little homie Quiksta had to go
Because "Gangsta, Gangsta," that's what they yellin'
But n*ggas do dirt, get caught, and start tellin' (shut up!)
Talkin' to you G's with no heart
We was throwin' and runnin' from bullets before gangsta rappin' was an art
n*gga (n*gga), so don't test ya bulletproof vest (nah)
'Cause real n*ggas do real thangs up under stress
That's from the C-P-T, young G with heart, too
Oh, we still party, but now it's part II
And
[Hook]
I don't wanna party wit you.. hell naw
'Cause b*tch you scary
You 20 years old, with 3 kids, 7 tattoos
You're bald, but your legs are hairy
I don't wanna party wit you.. hmm, hell naw
You need to put some lotion on
'Cause your skin is peeling around
Them bullet wounds on your back
You're fat, plus you're abortion-prone

[Verse 2]
I'd rather be a young exec, than the puppet on the other end
Dangling by a noose on his neck
They can't handle me, cause I'm where the {scandal} be
An underground n*gga on Arista, now there is the family
That I'mma roll wit', take control wit'
Have a ball, break bread, and share the soul wit'
Even though I'm thirsty for money, in the worst way
I ain't go cry if I don't go platinum, on the first day
Watch me, get my hustle on with the friendly competition
Y'all got papers but I got the latest edition (extra extra)
A hundred-thousand dollars a track is what I crack
And if you ain't got that, keep wishin' (we all about it)
And to you b*tch-ass n*ggas in the maze
Comin' at a player with {homosexual} ways
Keep lickin' on that other sound
And stay north of the 105 Hip Hop heads, 'cause this is underground
Yeah, right by the water, can't do right by ya daughter (no)
But look at all the sh*t that I done bought her (hmm?)
See lyrics ain't nothin' if the beat ain't crackin'
And these beats smackin', that's why the G's keep stackin', n*gga
[Hook]
(I don't wanna party wit you).. hell naw
'Cause n*gga youse a scuffla
Your braids is dingy, your clothes ain't got no creases
And your lips look like you sucked a muffler
(I don't wanna party wit you).. hell naw
'Cause b*tch you didn't know me when you was fine as wine and thick
Now you're sick from smokin' that sh*t
You're broke and plus you're bony

[Verse 3]
W-E-S-T, C-O-A-S-T
That's where the hydroponic with no seeds be
So don't trip when you see me on the TV, or my CD
And my eyes are really R-E-D
See the {industry} is freak (shh shh shh), pardon me for bein' speaky
Snitchin' on y'all that wanna jeek me
What makes you even try that way?
Yeah, I might be fly, but I don't fly that way
Hmm, even on a gallon of Cisco I could never go disco
Dude, I ain't from {Frisco}
And to these b*tches, y'all trippin', we ain't layin' wit' y'all
Just because we say we wanna f*ck we playin' wit' y'all
This is entertainment, we tryin' to make us some change
We ain't impressed by what you got up under your Hanes
b*tch, that's yo' trap, and that's yo' sap
Let me spit the cap while she sit in yo' lap homie
Don't you know me? Jealous-ass n*ggas wanna flow me (Why?)
Just because your woman wanna blow me
On the strength I give that ho a tittie-toy
'Cause I'm the only ugly n*gga gettin' away with bein' pretty boy
[Hook]
(I don't wanna party wit you).. hmm, hell naw
Now this is how the sporty bounce
We stay away from you broke-ass n*ggas
Always beggin' and ain't got a dime on the 40 ounce
(I don't wanna party wit you).. hmm, hell naw
'Cause ho you to' back, with that ol' long ass roll
And ya stockings smellin' like Avon, and that horse want his 'fro back
(I don't wanna party wit you).. hmm, hell naw
And n*gga I can't stand ya
And I ain't got nothin' but some advice
A map, a bar of soap, some water and a towel to hand ya
(I don't wanna party wit you).. hmm, hell naw
Now I'mma be real wit' it
All my f*ckin' life I ain't never wanted fame
But since the sh*t done came I gotta deal wit it
(I don't wanna party wit you)
Ya know, but I'mma do it like my homie say
Check it, I don't give a f*ck about fame (fa sho)
I'd rather deal with the money, y'all can have the name
I'm out
Yeah
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net