"Man, Dub, I don't even think they even believe in the Barracuda, Man!
I think they doubting!"
Basslines affect me, n*ggas respect me
Cause my flows is deadly and I'm a Connect G
And they know I'm ready cause my gun's directly
Right where their neck be and I'll make the TEC breathe
Climbing out of the manhole
With three creases in my flannel
The party's over, blow out the candles
b*tch n*ggas to the back
Throw your hands up and guard yours
Cause in the front I just wanna see the hardcore
Now look, ninety-nine point nine point nine per cent gonna be all on my di*k
Like I spit when I drop this sh*t
That other 1 per cent is gonna be yelling "Boo!"
On the Internet talking sh*t and hiding like you
Faggot ass n*ggas
Aiming the thing, thing to leave you brainless
Snatching bikinis off you fake gangsters
Spank you, bank you lamesters all you all pranksters
Impatiently waiting to shank you I've been so anxious
n*gga back to grip the pistol ripping a (shut your mouth!) instrumental
Still that four fingers up two twisted in the middle
Round two letting off another round fool!
Here comes Sasquatch in a pair of blue house shoes
WC, crashing kicking the glass, back at last
And all y'all can kiss my crusty black ass
I'm on some other sh*t
Two thousand and ten star child with the gauge bailing out the mother ship
Got a gang of weed and I'm a smoke all of it
Twenty years in the game and I ain't even started yet
Stocking caps, Chucks, that's the WC starter kit
Who want to see me on this walk twenty thousand start the bid
A double-O schizo at my own concert
In the bathroom ask a n*gga what they hitting for
And if I crap out then n*gga clear the floor
Cause I keep a .44 down to make sure they getting low
The kind of n*gga pumping fluid in a '64
Yelling f*ck security! shooting up your disco
Go broke? sh*t no!
It's either rap or pitch dope
That's why every mic booth I heat it up like Crisco
I'm in the Crips Ford XT tipping slow with your baby mama
Pulling up to the liquor store
Out of South Central
Me and CT the West coast audio two time villain like Gizmo
WC spit the kill flow
Ask Game ask Kurupt who the big homie that can still go
Get with Dub? No for real Loc you got a better chance of
Stevie Wonder making a fifty yard field goal
Rough like Brillo, head real low
Send my love to Cool J but ladies love me like a dildo
Dub a kill mode, sleep on me if you want
I'm like a loaded gun with the safety off under the pillow
Rags, braids, sets in the air
I represent all that ignorant sh*t you n*ggas scared of
Got a big stack, Ds on the Cadillac
But f*ck the brag rap I spit the brown bag rap I'm that
Disrespectful ass n*gga twisting on a zag
Walking in the club smacking b*tches on they ass
And got a rusty corkscrew and broken OE bottle
Just in case the brave n*gga with her want to play Geraldo
Bullet tips hollow
Dub will make your head bobble
Ghetto artist draw from the hip like Picasso
I'm Picasso in a hanky-patterned house robe
Known for drawing two barrels that blow like nostrils
Dub's out of control and got a lot of flows
Keep the Rosé b*tches __ __ __ __ __
Looking for some cash Rat? Take your glass back
Cause over here a n*gga's nasty like ass crack
Turn your hearing aid up what's wrong with you?
If you ain't sucking of f*cking tonight you got the wrong n*gga
I'm in there doing a lot of things your n*gga won't do
Like putting you on a highway with a gang of n*ggas on you
Them other rap n*ggas trick a lot of loot
I just want to f*ck you and break you
And treat you like a prostitute
And I don't want to kiss, I just want to touch the enz
Dub the gutter kid motherf*ckers know what it is
The ground pounder, Chevy scraper after the paper
And in a squab' I'm good with the hands like a masturbator
Smashing haters, cater to n*ggas who sag in Taylors
Gang sign translator, sucker n*gga assassinator
The casket layer, 'hood navigator
Look what you done gone me on Toones
You should have never grabbed the fader
Harassinator, Wester with nav crusader
Like Mayweather I'm tired of messing with you bums
I'm moving my weight up
I 'K you slay you spray you put your spirits in a cloud in the air
Have your body on the ground surrounded by flares, see?
It's back to the basics, so I'm closing my book
With laughter, and putting a lid on the chapter
And all you sentimental rappers
Take money, take pus*y, f*ck all that soft sh*t
I'm capping at your car b*tch, y'all n*ggas garbage
Dub the urban vet Mandingo f*ck with me I'll have
You leaving the fight limping with your turtle neck wrinkled
I know it's a couple of n*ggas that can swing 'em
But show me a n*gga with muscles I show you something that can shrink 'em
Dirty ones, big ones believe me I ain't scared
Dub will pick one, any one, got 357 of 'em
Nah, what's really what's cracking
I'm really with a TEC and
Really with n*ggas gattin'
Don't be talking loud but really be rapping
Really the fact is the nine milli' I really be packing
Cause y'all all lights and cameras I'm ready with the action
When I'm on? No this is really just a fraction
A freestyle for the top of the year
Like Primo I'm calling it a Premier
But don't worry the Barracuda's back taking the room
WC and Crazy Toones motherf*cker stay tuned!