O It's On Lyrics - Still Writing In My Diary: 2nd Entry - Petey Pablo

95 percent of these supposed to be thugs is hoes 

With Victoria Secret panties crammin that ass hole 

Throwin the crooked finger ddd- ridin the west coast 

Giv em' some real soldiers 

Why'all son of bitches, hoes 

I called it like I called it 

Think I'm wrong, step forward 

And get yo mind pushed in a science class bucket 

She in to tough talkin now that 50 got on 

Quit fantisizing bout that man, and live on 

You ain't neva be hard, yo mammy titty fed you too long 

Probly still suck it if she pulled it out and showed ya 

Tonite were gettin closure,I'm pointin out folks 

Pullin niggaz cards, exposin what ya hold 

I'm sorry if it feels you don't know me no more 

Just had some shit on my mind,in my chest I had to get off 

You can't judge a mutha fuckin book by its cover 

But I can spot a bitch a mile away 

Pardon me brotha 

Chorus 

O its on, get at me, bitch I won't slap the shit outcha 

Whacho want, Drag, cummon, bring all the bitches 

O its on, get it, bitch I won't slap the shit whacho want, drag, cummon, bring all the bitches 

" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " 

" " " " 

O its on, get it, bitch I won't slap the shit whacho want, drag cummon get ya some, mutha fuchas 

Verse 2 

These niggaz catchin feelings 

They ain't men they women 

And he gay 'cause he wit em and he trying to defend em 

So I say we should expose these hoes 

I think our fans should know they gon shoot up yo shows 

Its on know ya'll can cummon down 

I got a desert eagle wit a silencer 

I swear it make no sound 

A 4-5 calibur with some bullets that so round 

50 took a look at it and told me to slow down 

Petey you need me nigga just holla and I got ya 

Throw on some frank sinatra and order me some pasta 

They fuckin with some mobstas 

See we can get it done, and I bet you at his funeral 

Nobody gon come 

I ain't here to be beefin wit no nigga to get a name 

If you pussie and show yo panties, I'm pullin out my thang 

Got a habit of smackin faggots with semi-automatics 

You niggas in trouble 

Buck and petey back at it its on! 

(chorus) 

If you jump off in the club its a jump off in the club 

She can tow up just get tore up like I give a good fuck 

All the champagne I don bought but why'all don paid for this chair 

That I'm fittin to take and break acros this son of bitch head 

Look at bonecrusher very first verse he don read (10 ton( 

That's on everything I love to drop then 

Fuckin round get a main artery cut in half 

Blood gushin out the side of you're neck bleedin to death 

Needin a paramedic to reconnect n piecen you back together 

I don seen it happen too many times out here, hate it man 

Its gettin crucial out here n you takin this shit for granite 

Pussy punk, panty wearin mascara faggot 

Blowpop suckin ass,juicy fruity crooked man 

Molested as a child, by the babysitter daddy 

Backstabbin motherfuckin crabs in a barell 

I can't stand em, but I bet I can handle em