Something Good Lyrics - Jive Records Presents: Ugk Chopped & Screwed - Ugk

[Pimp C:] 

One with a trigger, two with a bat 

Three big brothers, fo' - wanna squab with me 

So I guess a brother gotta throw 

Tell 'em like this, ya better get up out my camp dude 

Befo' I have to pull my gat and get, real rude 

I don't figure that it's worth gettin hurt 

Just 'cause ya gal wanna give me that skirt 

Bet it feels funny when ya doin 69 

Knowin that ya sippin on all my jimmy wine 

And when ya get a kiss, do ya feel bad 

Knowin that ya swallowed all the skeeter that I had? 

You wanna step to me but I don't really think ya should 

I shoulda shot you up instead I told ya somethin good 

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[Chorus: sampled from Chaka Khan & Rufus' "Something Good"] 

TELL me something GOOD (Ohhh, baby, baby, baby yeah) 

TELL me something GOOD (Oh yeaaaaah... yeah) 

Tell-TELL me something GOOD (Ohhhhhhh-HOO!, tell me, tell me...) 

TELL me something GOOD (Ohhh, baby, baby, baby yeah) 

[Bun B:] 

Aiyyo, what's up with that bulge in ya khakis? 

You wanna pack a gat, but you STILL ain't got the pull to come and jack me 

You betta bring a gangload of homies when you think you wanna throw 

Cause by yourself, you're runnin to the flo' 

I seen your kind befo', man ya nothin with your hands 

More than a punk but still less than a man 

You talk a lot of nothin when ya chillin with the ladies 

Let me catch ya by yourself, you're pushin up some daisies 

See crazy you wanna be, but punks with no heart, they ain't hard 

They just waitin for Bun to pull they card 

You betta keep your weak self locked in ya hood 

Cause without your boys I'm a have to tell ya somethin good 

Photos 

[Chorus] 

(Ohhhhhhh-HOO!) 

[Pimp C:] 

Brothers nowadays got a habit that they really need to stop 

Gettin all shot over a girl that I done popped 

You need to check ya girl and what she did in the past 

Cause if you know like me, you would drop her REAL fast 

But I don't trust the dugout, cause I'm scared of that disease 

Cause she's passin' out the skinz like government cheese 

But not me player, cause Pimp C wanna live 

Have you had your test? Are you H-I positive? 

But instead of gettin checked you wanna fight with me 

You need to check ya blood and let somebody check your teeth 

But if you don't step, I'm a drop on ya fast 

And pump off bullets like government cash 

I didn't do ya girl but your sister was alright 

Took her to my homeboy's Caddy last night [girl moaning in the background] 

She waxed my jimmy, and then the little street tramp 

Did me on a box of tens and a Pioneer amp 

I hit if from the back, and the girl just THREW ME 

Told me, "Pump it harder, " and she scratched me on my BOOTY 

Now everybody in the world 

Know that your sister is a nasty lil' girl 

[Chorus 1/2] 

[Bun B:] 

Let's talk about these half-n-half punks 

By day they sorry bastards, at night they talkin bout, poppin trunks 

Butter .25 cain't keep you alive 

From a sawed-off, fool so I hope you survive 

See bluffin might save ya tail one day 

But who's ta say, it won't catch ya next week, on the runway? 

You might shoot a few shots in the wind 

But the same time tomorrow, you'll be runnin again 

Now can you keep it up, every damn night? 

You steady runnin to the argument but runnin from the fight 

What's the deal man? Why don't you take your Raiders cap off? 

Cause one of these days, you gonna getcha head slapped off 

You cain't keep a crew cause they gettin sick of seein you bail 

Like a punk'll hit the backstreet trail 

And the women don't like you cause ya act like them 

And that's why your little jimmy never went fo' a swim 

Ya talk about slangin, makin G's 

But I saw a fiend chase ya from, BJ's up to Mickey D's 

Now everyday punks get took 

Either for they dough, they'll ride 'em for the powder that they cook 

You bookin from the scene cause ya couldn't hold ya own 

A 40 ounce bottle slams, ya dead to your dome 

Now you want revenge, so ya get your automatic 

Find a group of hard-heads, and startin kickin static 

Ya pulled ya little chrome but these fools got gats 

Try to run and caught two buckshots in ya back 

Now you nothin but a memory that's gone in a slayin 

So when I tell you somethin good, punk I don't be playin