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Kurupt

Genres: Hip-Hop

Ask Yourself A Question Lyrics - Kurupt

Kurupt: 

Check it out 

Here's a penny for your thoughts, a nicklebag of bliss 

An M-16 with eighteen clips 

I'm all set to bust, treacherous 

Illustrious, homie don't question us 

 

Just ask yourself the question 

How many hoes can I fuck in one night? 

Just ask yourself the question, nigga 

How many niggaz can I blast on sight? 

 

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I'm ferocious, and you knows this nigga 

Bitches wear skirts, shake ass and bump 

I pop pistols, that's all I do 

I pop one at him and pop two at you 

I'm illusive, I'ma glutton 

Pistol popping activist with the key to the bucket 

I rip your pockets of the side of your pants 

You glare to the side and you glance, I'm in my G-force stance 

How the fuck you make it this far? 

No matter where you at, or who you are 

People treat me like Kareem Abdul Jabbar 

I hear ooh's and aah's when I jumps in my car 

Just from last night you can tell 

that I'm addicted to the fast life 

Shouts out to my homeboys Mad and Quell 

You go on and fuck Misty, while I fuck Michelle 

 

Photos 

 

Chorus: 

Just ask yourself the question 

How many hoes can I fuck in one night? 

Just ask yourself the question 

How many niggaz can I blast on sight? 

Just ask yourself the question 

Is it cool to ride, or is it cool to fuck? 

Just ask yourself the question 

I don't know why these motherfuckers wanna fuck with us 

 

What you wanna do, penetrate me? 

Bump my crib? Bust and fuck my bitch, nigga? 

I never thought a nigga would trip 

off a little piece of ass that he know he could get 

Any day (any day) and any time (any time) 

You'se a vegetarian (what?), I like beef, turkey and pork 

Fish and chips, chips and dip 

Fuck it, hand me my knife and my fork 

I'm not too picky nigga, Kurupt young Gotti 

A.K.A. Low Ricky nigga (what up momma?) 

Substantialar, tyrannosaurus, gigantic titanic tarantula. 

On a creep homie, wake up 

Don't sleep homie, supposed to know it 

Look, I'm hazardous to health, nigga, bitch, nigga 

Don't ask me shit 'till you ask yourself 

 

Chorus (Dre) 

 

Dre: 

What the fuck is up? Man life's a bitch 

You gotta put your pistol to the sky, 

kill a million motherfuckers and get high in order to be cool 

Man, you'se a motherfucking fool (speak to these niggaz) 

I thought the same way, back in the days 

Young, with a lack on daily things 

Never thought too much, homie, never trip 

I got drunk as fuck, the homies blaze sticks 

Look out for them niggaz out to get you 

So (?) forgetting to tank your pistol with you (your pistol nigga) 

Niggaz get swallowed in the game 

I cock and bust hollows to peer, duck and frame 

Yo nigga, that shit sounds like I did it 

Don't blaze the (?) without the (?) 

Niggaz look like they're doped up like tired bitches 

With the eyes wide gone you spit the hard boom 

Wiping shit the fuck out like typhoons 

With the little homeboys, T-bone and cartoons 

Motherfucker don't ask me for shit 

Fuck everything you believe in, little bitch 

 

Chorus 

 

Kurupt: 

what, what? 

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