Now What lyrics

(Spice 1)
Yeah n*gga...
Bossalini, Fetty Chico, Shiznilty
In this muthaf*cka with EA-Ski K n*gga
I got my muthaf*ckin EA-Ski K n*gga
Yeah...
We ain't did sh*t for years but here it is you punk muthaf*cka
You thought we wouldn't gon do it b*tch
Blooaw..!!

(Spice 1)
It's like the NFL
But I don't rush the quarterback I rush the whole thang back
And I pick up another sack
Face-maskin muthaf*ckas but the mask we gon wear is black
And when I touch down my team pick me up in a cadillac
n*gga how you love that?
Where the bud at?
Suckers never could hold a thug back
Spittin drug raps
Me and Ski we got the blood batch
Now what batch (=b*tch)
n*ggas out there who doubt us they can suck dack (=di*k)
I bust caps, snaps n*ggas and head back
Open the bottle of cognac, lookin for wires and phone taps
Bossalini you can't see me, n*ggas need to go with that
I get high and blow up with my mind lands
And land mines right between your muthaf*ckin eyes
In these sins of time
Extra ordinary, far from your average
I'm puttin extras on it, extra manage, extra savage, extra G's
Get your money on
M.O.B
That's money over b*tches cause they breathe envy
(Chorus)
Now what?
Some n*ggas say we ain't doin way too much
But Spice 1 and Mr.Ski hooked the f*ck back up
Now what?
Some n*ggas say it's time to bring the pain
So we came to put our muthaf*ckin di*k in the game

(EA-SKI)
I cut loosin these f*ckin ho's
b*tches get shooked when I hook up with my dawg
It's like that n*gga
We're tryin to get phat and that's all
I got my muthaf*ckin mind on it
I'm bout to put my hands on it
Look out for your spot when I lands on it
Keepin it gangsta, 24-some all day sh*t
We're bringin it b*tch, claimin it on this ol' Bay sh*t
I got my heat locked and I c*cked it
I gotta keep these f*ckin big nuts in my pocket
Look out for this muthaf*ckin hot Glock when I drop it
Pop it, yes I will
You ain't got sh*t that can stop it when it's bout to kill
Tryin to make my cash flow
Stay out my path when I roll
Tryin to ask sh*t to make my man swoll
Get chicked on, n*gga we ain't gon f*ckin around, we call to ball (that's right)
Out here doin this sh*t, puttin it down like a waterfall
Big dog tryin to catch one, get in my way catch one
To the gut muthaf*cka, now what muthaf*cka
(Chorus)

Artist, producer, the n*gga that'll bring the heat
And make these b*tches bow
Even these all-in rappers can't f*ck with my style
I hit these n*ggas with that Mr.Ski sh*t
It seperates me from that fake gangsta sh*t
n*gga I blast, musically, vocally I'm unfadeable
...A earthquake...?
f*ck that, I hit n*ggas with tornados and brake 'em down
Shake 'em down, lay 'em face down
Give me mine or I'ma empty out these rounds
Now what?

(Spice 1)
Extra clips, extra funds, extra cash, extra guns
This is the new millenium, many n*ggas packs milli guns
Trigger gots no heart, we still dump 'em in ditches
And we can soew up your spot
We leave your sh*t up in stitches
See this is the type of sh*t that hater n*ggas dream
Suckers wave their eyebrows, b*tches turn they head
Lookin at us, sayin "Damn! Mr.Ski & Fetty Chico"
I wonder if they goin to the studio, can we go?

(Chorus)
(EA-SKI)
So now it's up
So now it's up
Now what n*gga...?
Tell me...
Somebody better talk to me...
I don't hear nuthin...
Are you stuck...?
You didn't think this would happen, not...?
You'se a b*tch made n*gga
Yeah, you're sittin up there p*ssed with your eyebrows down...
Punk..!!
Hahahaha...
We're doin it like this everyday all day 2K
Spice Weezie
Mr.Skeezie
C-M-Teezie
I-M-Geezie
I'm out this b*tch