1.This Dick's For You
Lyricist：Michael Barnett, Joe Johnson, Brad Jordan, James Smith
This goes out to you H O E's
Swangin' on the nuts of us motherfuckin' G's
You ain't never seen a nigga like me baby
Big Mike aka Big D D
Big dick daddy, droppin' you hoes in the sack
Bustin' nut after nut on your motherfuckin' back
If your nigga wants to make love to you, cool let a nigga know
'Cause a nigga like myself just wanna fuck you hoe
And if you don't want him to know I won't snitch
You can be his girl but you know you'll always be my bitch
My freak my hoe my tramp my moneymaker
Keep yo bitch right or a nigga like myself will take a smooth
Off the S L A B
And why you trippin' you know your bitch will be rollin' with me
So to ladies and everyone throughout your crew
Give a smile in the mean watch out
This dick is for you
I, bitch I just want to fuck you
Dick, sucked the whole night through
Ass, licked as if I was a star
This dick is for you baby, wherever you are, hey
Bitches I scoop them up like jacks
Stack them like racks and send them home with their pussy off
tracks
'Cause they be figuring me to be a light weight
But if it gets 'em into the bed, then that's okay
'Cause when I get them, I'm doin' damage to that pussy hole
Not only do I fuck the body but I fuck the soul
What other nigga do you know that can handle this
Hijack the pussy from the back and dismantle it
It sounds kind of difficult but it ain't
The only difficulty that occurs is when the pussy's stank
'Cause then I'm a have to send you home and throw you in a ditch
Or leave you for the garbage man you unsanitary bitch
So spread your legs wide open boo
And let a nigga like me get down 'cause this dick is for you
I, bitch I just want to fuck you
Dick, sucked the whole night through
Ass, licked as if I was a star
This dick is for you baby, wherever you are, hey
Bitches say I talk bad 'cause I'm real
And to me expressin' myself is tellin' a bitch just how I feel
I had a couple of women in my life but yo
In 1992 I realized that they was hoes
'Cause hoes will straight up do hoe shit
Bitches even more shit and ladies will give you no shit
So I kicked back and played the hand that I was dealt
Peep game in the mix and let these hookers play them self
'Cause 80 percent of the bitches I meet ain't shit
But money bandits, I front like I'm giving up bank
Stick dick in they ass, and leave 'em stranded
But for women, I got a better tactic 'cause I love them
They come to Mr. Brad 'cause their mistreated by their husbands
So I hook up shit to make it right just call me tonight
And I'll make sure that everything runs tight
'Cause if he don't appreciate you boo the way that I do
You need to let him run back to his crew
'Cause he don't understand what you goin' through
But regardless to who I screw
This dick is for you
I, bitch I just want to fuck you
Dick, sucked the whole night through
Ass, licked as if I was a star
This dick is for you baby, wherever you are, hey
2.My Mind Playin' Tricks On Me
Lyricist：Dennis Willie, Dennis Willie James, Hayes Isaac, Hayes Isaac
Lee, Jordan Brad, King Doug
I sit alone in my four-cornered room staring at candles
Oh, that shit is on？
Let me drop some shit like this here
Real smooth
At night I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Candle sticks in the dark, visions of bodies being burned
Four walls just staring at a nigga
I'm paranoid, sleeping with my finger on the trigga
My momma's always stressing I ain't living right
But I ain't going out without a fight
See, everytime my eyes close
I start sweating and blood starts coming out my nose
It's somebody watching the AK
But I don't know who it is, so I'm watching my back
I can see him when I'm deep in the covers
When I awake I don't see the motherfucker
He owns a black hat like I own
A black suit and a cane like my own
Some might say, 'Take a chill, B'
But fuck that shit, there's a nigga trying to kill me
I'm popping in a clip when the wind blows
Every twenty seconds got me peeping out my window
Investigating the joint for traps, checking my telephone for
taps
I'm staring at the woman on the corner
It's fucked up when your mind is playing tricks on you
I make big money, I drive big cars
Everybody know me, it's like I'm a movie star
But late at night, something ain't right
I feel I'm being tailed by the same sucker's head lights
Is it that fool that I ran off the block？
Or is it that nigga last week that I shot？
Or is it the one I beat for five thousand dollars？
Thought he had 'caine but it was Gold Medal Flour
Reached under my seat, grabbed my popper for the suckers
Ain't no use to be lying, I was scareder than a motherfucker
Hooked a left into Popeye's and beared down quick
If it's going down let's get this shit over with
Here they come, just like I figured
I got my hand on the motherfucking trigger
What I saw'll make your ass start giggling
Three blind, crippled and crazy senior citizens
I live by the sword, I take my boys everywhere I go
Because I'm paranoid
I keep looking over my shoulder and peeping around corners
My mind is playing tricks on me
Day by day it's more impossible to cope
I feel like I'm the one that's doing dope
Can't keep a steady hand because I'm nervous
Every Sunday morning I'm in the service
Praying for forgiveness
And trying to find an exit out of the business
I know the Lord is looking at me
But yet and still it's hard for me to feel happy
I often drift when I drive
Having fatal thoughts of suicide
Bang and get it over with
And then I'm worry free but that's bullshit
I got a little boy to look after
And if I died then my child would be a bastard
I had a woman down with me
But to me it seemed like she was down to get me
She helped me out in this shit
But to me she was just another bitch
Now, she's back with her mother, now, I'm realizing that I love
her
Now, I'm feeling lonely, my mind is playing tricks on me
This year Halloween fell on a weekend
Me and Geto Boys are trick-or-treating
Robbing little kids for bags
Till a law man got behind our ass
So we speeded up the pace
Took a look back and he was right before our face
He'd be in for a squabble no doubt
So I swung and hit the nigga in his mouth
He was going down, we figga'd
But this wasn't no ordinary nigga
He stood about six or seven feet
Now, that's the nigga I'd been seeing in my sleep
So we triple-teamed on him
Dropping them motherfucking beads on him
The more I swung the more blood flew
Then he disappeared and my boys disappeared, too
Then I felt just like a fiend, it wasn't even close to Halloween
It was dark as fuck on the streets
My hands were all bloody from punching on the concrete
Goddamn, homie, my mind is playing tricks on me
3.Raise Up
Lyricist：Joe Johnson, Brad Jordan
Click, click, bang, hehe
I'm sick of niggaz trying to shoot the big six
But when the shit jumps off, the nigga plays the big bitch
And that's the problem with the nation of blacks
Too slow with your motherfucking hands, so you grab your gats
Aand listen to the gangsta music
You got a glock, ten in your lap but you scared to use it
You's a motherfucking stud
Letting all your homies know you bought another gun
Suppose they tried to pack you
Dropped your dick in the dirt
And know exactly how to send it at you
Trying to work your way into the big clique
And that's the main reason young niggaz die quick
Living in this fast shit and trying to have a bad bit
But what you niggaz know about a bank roll
Tricking off the money you made with them stank hoes
Think about it quick, quick and raise up, bitch
Now the niggaz I run with are down brothers
And ready to die for a motherfucker
So when you want to step mate
I'ma bust you dead in your ass with this twelve gauge
I ain't your ordinary villain
Some niggaz was born dying, I was born killing
So gather up your army, G
'Cos that's what it's going to take to stop a nigga like me
'Cos I'm coming at you full force, nigga
I hope you got some real niggaz on the trigger
'Cos I be rolling like a hustler
And since you got gats, you better use them, motherfuckers
Sparking nines at a drastic pace
Taking orders from a motherfucking basket case
So when my nine goes pop
Boy, you better shit and get your ass up off the pot
(Fuck 'em up)
Listen to my glock click, now raise up, bitch
So niggaz, don't fuck with me
'Cos I'ma run the whole ninety motherfucking three
And the rest of the years to come
So bitches, bring it on if you motherfuckers want some
And I'ma break you off a big piece
'Cos niggaz can't fuck with the big chief
Attention motherfuckers about face
Salute the one that the people call Scarface
Still quick to hit them up, quick to get them up
Quick to not give a fuck
Never bringing the false shit
I left the mic for a year and I still ain't lost it
Still running them down, gunning them down
Yeah 'cos real niggaz going to clown
So put your crown on, since you're bigger
And let me take care of my business, nigga
The bigger the nigga, the bigger the cap
The bigger the bullet, the bigger the fucking gat
So step up with that hoe shit
And I'm a empty the whole clip
Ain't no running like a rabbit
'Cos I'ma let you motherfuckers have it
Let the motherfucker blast
And bring your hat to your motherfucking ass
'Cos niggaz ain't true to it, you're new to it
And don't know what to do to it
But I ain't never had that kind of luck
If you're scared to bite the bullet
Then raise the fuck up
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