Wrong 4 Dat Lyrics - Keith Murray

This is WKYA, We Kickin Yo' Ass radio 

All you motherfuckers out there that want to get down with the pound 

put your motherfuckin' pounds up, and start bustin' the motherfuckers 

Am I too loud for this motherfucker? Turn me down a little bit 

Yeah yeah yeah 

Yo, first of all I'm a grown-ass man, pay my own bills 

Stated own real, haters gon' feel 

Direct Syndrome, mouth with cold tongue 

You bounty hunters be on the chase for Joe Young 

I won't slip, keep pink slips to my car 

I'm raw like sushi bars on bougie broads 

I retrieve the money, dawg labrador 

Ray Charles can see it, and Stacy Lattisaw 

You get mashed out, cause your bird is peckin' 

Don't be the next vinyl cut to Urban Legend 

I can feel where you at, when I pound you up 

You out of town coke rhymes, oh you clowns is up 

My crew stay in the truck, can't fit in the Porsche 

If you bitches ain't happy, then get a divorce 

I'ma do what I want, cause my time is now 

Grab the whole rap game, and divide it down 

If I want to roll a Jeep with a seat out the back 

Bitch feet out the back, system beat out the track 

Am I wrong for dat? (If that's what you like) 

Dawg, am I wrong for dat? (Hey, I guess not) 

Yo yo, if I walk into the club with my hand on my snub 

Beatin down security cause I don't give a fuck 

Am I wrong for dat? (Mmm mmm) 

Dawg, am I wrong for dat? (Say what) 

I copped the whole box, went half with Reginald 

Hollow tips infrareds and clips came free 

And you ain't gotta believe me, fuck bein' nervous 

Far as I'm concerned they're at your funeral service 

What do we have here? Snitch in despair, shoot off his ear 

Have his whole body shakin' in fear 

Stormtrooper fires throwin' lashin' out flames 

A few ashes, when they analyze your remains 

I live in the streets, reside with the toolie 

I kill you like it's part of my religious duty 

Street sweeper thug keeper sweepin' thugs under the rug 

Even females who think they thugs 

Trigger the release of adrenaline 

When I'm gangsta-trippin' like the Bloods'n'Crips'n'them 

Unleash the matter of energy, killin' 'em 

Why'd you do it? Because I wasn't feelin' them! 

If I ride through the hood, smokin' a ounce of haze (uh-huh) 

with a shabby haircut, pants I wore for days 

Am I wrong for dat? (I don't think so) 

C'mon bitch, am I wrong for dat? (Say what) 

Yo, if I want a fat chick that keep her toes done (uh-huh) 

When they playin' my song ass spill out the thong 

Am I wrong for dat? (Got that big ass) 

Am I wrong for dat? (Tchk, no) 

I gotta, bang the boogie to that bang bang pussy 

To that bang to the pussy the beat, beat 

And if yo', bitch ain't sippin' that Cristal shit 

Then she might be leavin' with D, D 

I got a hairy-ass chest, like Austin Powers 

That bitch that "Stan" drowned, I fucked around with her 

Act like a man, stand on your own two 

Doc takin' it all, fuck who it belong to