Mr. Black Panther Party, are you ready for me? After 25 years of silence, can you see me? I hate the cops about as much as you, and if you'll stand up
da coop that cost a hundred thous, hakala shikmina lady ron browz my money make noise yours quite as a mouse send a email in da boyz in da house all da
the dance floor Go straight to the dance floor when you hear this sound when you hear this sound straight to the dance floor Go straight to the dance
St. Louis Detroit, it's like Oakland It's a black thing, and I'm a black man To all my brothers in the U.S.A. Too $hort baby don't even play Woofers
a clown Throw a little money 'round, do my dance to the sounds Worth a whole lotta cash, so you know I got the pound on me Yeah dance for my homie (damn
[Intro: people whispering] Is it a bird? Is it a plane? (no it's Ghost, no it's Ghost) What did y'all discover? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? (no it's
's livin' it up is a must A Benz is not needed to portray my wealth A Jaguar is not a symbol for a star But Nelson Mandela, is a fellow I consider to
dive Right between your thighs I satisfy like a Snickers bar 'Cause I'm the bigger bar That'll stick you quicker than A 'spic will strip a car My repertoire holds a
hope somebody brought a bag of weed I like them flavored blunt wraps Or a peach white owl But here, I'm in a hurry So just pack a bowl for now It's still
hard for such a long time And life yes it's here and gone so pedal to the Hammer While I'm watching the floor I'm not a king just filling pipe You dance
at? Downtown on the block, at the club steaming hot Dancing, talking shit, telling lies like a pimp Meanwhile underpaid, read like second grade Uncle
up to a tight fitted T And some high top kicks in pink black and green I wanna dance, I wanna dance, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna d-d-d-d-d-dance Switch
son is a daughter All I need is some cigars and a quarter a couple cars and a lawyer Condom packin' a bitch and I'll be back with a hit I'm that sick
??? A-F-R-O marijuana cargo Flossed like a cholow In a clean low glow Come on let's all get drunk tonight I hope I don't fight with a punk tonight Get
streets, black like no justice and no peace Keepin' the pace, not gon' lose my place, in this paper chase Smell this pie we bake, make your plate, take a
away and at last one day came a squaw with a story strange Of a long-deserted line of traps way back of the Bighorn range Of a little hut by the great
a gun can bust slugs any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood even Puffy smoked a motherfucker up in the club but only a real thug can stab
nigga with a gun, can bust slugs any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood even Puffy smoked the motherfucker up in a club but only a real thug