Too $hort (too Short) - Burn Rubber Pt.2 lyrics

Inside beotch Yeah you know about that, real players The real ones I burn rubber on you quick as hell You need some toilet paper, don't sh** on yourself When you see me rollin in luxury I won't f** witchu, so don't f** with me I'm just ridin, sidin, whippin and dippin I look at all the young hoes trippin It's no big deal when little hotties get hot When n***az get jealous, somebody get shot You in love? Might make you lose your mind That's why I run these gray girls, two at a time With no discretion, to me you're so depressin Actin like you don't know, my profession I look at them thighs, and look at them titties Take your a** straight on out, of Sin City Wearin all pink just like Hello Kitty Bringin back all see-notes and no fifties Burnin rubber on these b**hes, so fast.. Burn rubber as you smash all fast Tell it like $hort, no a**, no pa** All you Santa Claus players, be on your way With a bag full of toys on the back of your sleigh You hit your girls house, one by one Climb down the chimney, and give 'em all somethin You trick, don't come around me frontin Talkin 'bout how you pimpin givin hoes what they wantin You worse than a studio gangsta Behind closed doors, gettin his bootyhole spanked up You s**ers disrespect the game All these video hoes out there spittin your name You love it when they make that, a** clap But she don't give me no cash, I'll pa** it back I kick her where she stash the crack In the plastic sack, when she crash the 'llac Punk b**h! They tryin' to give the rap game to some real punks It's just like when disco, k**ed the funk Can't tell me nothin', when I know I'm right Like a bowlegged b**h with a overbite, that s** it right Player this pimp don't lie How many p**n stars you know that went to Crenshaw High? A lot of f**in' for a whole lot of nuttin' You just wannabe noticed so you're out there s*uttin' I never really cared about popular fame It's all about sittin' on top of the game So don't stop 'til your panties drop f** the mayor, the preacher, and a cop You better tell him what it cost, get his mind on track Cause he look like he lost Bring him back, and dig in his pockets quick Steal his watch, and make sure he got a drop, beotch