Lyrics
They want my bidness on the front page (headlines)
I put prescription into your frames (sunshine)
I had the vision back in 12th grade (lunchtime)
That I'd be killing shit with Doc Dre (nigga, what?)

I never want it to ever be over
I'm out in Philly, I thought it'd be colder
Drunk off the liqui, I might need a chauffeur
Check out my jiggy, check out my (uh)

Now, who are you? (Who the fuck is this?)
I don't know, no
What you do?
I don't know, no
You short a few? (Oh don't make me have to lose it)
Oh no, no, hold up
Pull my sticky out the jar, come on

Oh savage, that's a nice get-up
International, rocking Japanese denim
Enough gas to get you above average
How many more drags do I have to puff from my cigar?
New enemies they bringing my old ways back
Back in my day, woulda' had your whole face smacked
Look at you niggas', wonder why I fucking hate rap
Oh, what make you wanna go say that? (yo!)
And I'm on another wave
And I'm puttin' on suede
Niggas feeling overpaid, "Fuck I'm supposed to do?"
Don't nobody know your name
We ain't ever seen ya face
You ain't ever gang-bang
What you tryna prove?

I never want it to ever be over
I'm out in Philly, I thought it'd be colder
Drunk off the liqui, I might need a chauffeur
Check out my jiggy, check out my (uh)

Now, who are you?
I don't know, no
What you do?
I don't know, no
You short a few?
Oh no, no, hold up
Pull my sticky out the jar, come on

I've been swimming through the process
And you can't see me, I'm the Loch Ness
You could proceed, but with caution
Give the proceeds to my God-kids
Old dirt on my conscience
Same nigga my pop is
Lame niggas wanna pop shit, get drop kicked by a drop kick
Why you gotta lie to me so much babe?
You told me the same shit that you told what's his name
If it don't work out I'll go back to hustlin'
Couple hundred-thousand up in my mother's name, peace
World peace, niggas talk about "Don't shoot!"
Tell that to police
Scared, ain't none of them prepared, I could see
Promise I'ma get them commas before I decease

I never want it to ever be over
I'm out in Philly, I thought it'd be colder
Drunk off the liqui, I might need a chauffeur
Check out my jiggy, check out my (uh)

Now, who are you? (Who the fuck is this?)
I don't know, no
What you do?
I don't know, no
You short a few?
Oh no, no, hold up
Pull my sticky out the jar, come on
Now, who are you?
I don't know, no
What you do?
I don't know, no
You short a few?
Oh no, no

Hey, hey P, let it ride out

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Andre Brissett, Andre Young, Brandon Anderson, Dwayne Abernathy, Melvin Henderson, Roger Habon, Sly Jordan




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