Dope Boys

[Produced by 1500 or Nothin'] [Intro] Yeah Gangsta Gangsta... Yeah Wassup? Yeah Wassup? (x3) Yeah... Yeah [Verse 1] Coming fresh out that Pyrex pot Black Air Force 2s and the White Sox Fitted on my forehead, try me, go 'head I'll bring out the polka dots, put Kwame on your forehead Yeah, it's the new king of everything And bitches don't say no to me, I'm like a wedding ring Maybe it's how I pour that Patron Maybe it's how I smell of Paris Hilton Cologne Maybe it's how I write shit when I'm in the zone And I'm sick of blow jobs, bitch leave me alone And tell Dr. Dre to pick up a phone Before I climb through his window like, "Nigga, I'm home!" Running the rock like OJ, nigga it's a throwback Fuck a Aston Martin, show me where the stove at Get a jar, some baking soda, nigga hold that The world is my grandma's kitchen, time to cook crack [Hook] The Dope Boys in the building (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys in the building Yeah, (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys in the building (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys in the building Yeah, (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys (Wassup?) The Dope Boys in the building [Verse 2] You couldn't smell that crack coming out that motherfucking Porsche truck I stop traffic with the rims that I'm sitting on Them ain't high beams, bitch my wrist is on The same shit that Ludacris is on Disturbing the peace if my stash missing stones Yeah, count that work like a paycheck Niggas couldn't play The Game in a tape deck A boss never touch work if it ain't taped yet That's how you get fucked, I practice safe sex And I take ya boy Curtis' bitch with my tongue Lick lick lick like Shawnna and have her sprung Show her my Anaconda and have her sprung And put it all in her stomach and just "Urghh!" [Hook] w/ Ad-libbing [Verse 3] So roll that coke white carpet to the hood It's the Dope Boys reunion, the dress code's strictly: "White tee, Air Force 1s and some Dickies" I'm from the city where the skinny niggas die Only birds and Nextels chirp in the sky And we ride for the letters on our fitted cap Niggas hit the stash, get a strap, and go get it back! That's for the gangstas, the hustlas, the ballas From Downtown LA to Uptown Harlem And D-Boy money ain't raining, it's storming So stop the music when the Champagne pouring And hold them glasses high (Yeah) And when a nigga ask you why, you tell them - [Hook] w/ Ad-libbing [Outro] The Dope Boys, The Dope Boys Yeah, wassup? Wassup? Hahaha... yeah The King, is back!