Songtexte: DJ Quik. Birdz N tha Beez.

[Verse 1: DJ Quik]
I don't really give a fuck what you think
I only really give a fuck what you drink
I'm a bar-tender, car spender, a dick lender, cash spender, ass bender
A ass spender
Get it crackin like a bar throw in here
A whorehouse, got these bitches walkin naked through out the whole house
What the fuck U think my life is about?
Bitches hatin
What the fuck U think that butter knife was about?
Bitches hatin
Tell what the fuck this nigga's dick is about
Do he just be talkin' shit? No I doubt
He got years of clout
Like reballin credit line on a Mastercard
Drived it right between the pussy then I bash the broad
Then I took it for a minute
As I punch through my code
Tehn I waited for the pearls come out
Loan put on hold, Bankrupt, get ya stank stunk
Frontin like Pooh bear, I opened up ya cock & hollered sayin
a??Who there?a?? (Nobody, what?)
That's nice, little buggers done grew up the be the size of rice
So I jumped back & grabbed for my coller
Her pussy appreciated the pennies on the dollar
Now what the fuck
If U want the dick get the fuck up
And stop actin like an old tampon, stuck up
Give me somethin to get my step on
Then trek on, what up
I'll make you bust nuts till I nut up

(Chorus 2X)
The birdz and the beez
All the forties
Not with consume, drink up become roomed
a?¦The fuck up in the room with the door locked (Door locked!)
Wake up, divorce the bitch, leave'er lookin' for some more cock (More cock!)

[Verse 2: Hi-C]
We ride, sweet cock, juicy boo
Like Crips and Pirus, shit, we goin do
I fell in the club and hit the dance floor
Yo' boy got mad cause I dipped with his ho
Baby had my tootise, returnin' slow
She was sick got me lookin' for Pepto Bismol

Chips stackin, jaws smackin, dolla droppa
Dice shake ya money makin, dolla poppa
Home wreckin, ho checkin, dick is slow
Bring me back, cognac from the liquor store
Bet cha didn't know that yo ho is a freak
Every week she got something' up in the jaw meat
And I ain't policy
Spit it out
U goin zip my zipper before we get it out
They wanna be touched by the untouchable click
Don't hate, participate, y'all sing that shit

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: AMG]
When I bump on this trouble
What I'm sipppin' on make it a double
When I'm wit who, think I'd a hustle
More money and muscle
Shake the hooker like a trick up
Leatehr'n'wood three up off to the good
When I'm dippin I'm jacky
When I'm a flippin I'm saggie
When I'm high I'm a fly guy in the khakis
Big dick of the day, better ran the man
When I put in floss mode lookin' for hands
U scrap gone bad
Ho wishin ya had
Knack it up in the pad
Dick suck and I'm glad
Neva knew what a ho was
Checkin yo buzz
While I'm sittin in a first class digit in the ass
Nigga, you done lost ya playa pass (strip nigga)
3 of 4 niggas been ran upon that ass
Scratch up on the gas of the S5 double
Like when I said when I bump on this trouble
Can I a?¦ (oooooh)

[Chorus Till Fade]