Too Short - Burn Rubber lyrics

Inside beotch

Yeah you know about that, real players

The real ones

[Verse One]

I burn rubber on you quick as hell

You need some toilet paper, don't shit on yourself

When you see me rollin in luxury

I won't fuck witchu, so don't fuck 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 niggaz 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 ass straight on out, of Sin City

Wearin all pink just like Hello Kitty

Bringin back all C-notes and no fifties

{*scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}

[Verse Two]

Burnin rubber on these bitches, so fast..

Burn rubber as you smash all fast

Tell it like $hort, no ass, no pass

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 suckers disrespect the game

All these video hoes out there spittin your name

You love it when they make that, ass clap

But she don't give me no cash, I'll pass it back

... I kick her where she stash the crack

In the plastic sack, when she crash the 'llac

Punk bitch!

{*scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}

[Verse Three]

They tryin to give the rap game to some real punks

It's just like when disco, killed the funk

Can't tell me nothin, when I know I'm right

Like a bowlegged bitch with a overbite, that suck it right

Player this pimp don't lie

How many porn stars you know that went to Crenshaw High?

A lot of fuckin for a whole lot of nuttin

You just wannabe noticed so you're out there sluttin

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

Fuck 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

{*scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}