Correction Lyrics We Still Party (Live) by DJ Quik

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Lyrics

It's time for somebody to take over the West Coast power with fly style
And I'm the one
Been here for years, check your files
'Cause I'm the type of n***a with a strong desire
To nutt up, light a torch, and set the world on fire
See me bouncin' in my 'Vette
Doin' donuts in the middle of Reseda with Rosarita
Tryin' to find some place to eat her
'Cause I'm freaky with a capital F
I'll beat up your little pocket pita 'til there ain't nothing left
I'm nasty
You see, we, gets better when you think we hot
And we got more cheddar than they think we got
You see, we make the kinda money that when we withdrawal
They notify the feds 'cause it's too much, y'all
What you call a stash, we call it petty cash
Spend five or six figures a month, ain't left a gash
Party all night, and we drink all day
Drink Corona X for breakfast then I'm ready to play
I still like 'em green-eyed, big ol' titties and thighs
Big ol' n***a, little heart, and I'm big at the shots
So shoot your game, baby girl, don't be scared to take a pet
You never know, it just might get you wet
That's what we talkin' 'bout

We still party (I can't hear y'all), we gets high
Sometimes we don't feel grown-up and that's no lie
(Are y'all having a good time?)
So we party (Yes), 'til we die (Yes)
'Cause life is much too short for you to not be fly
That's what's happenin'
(Give it to me right here, Deitch)

Now whether or not I be drunk off a gallon a Moët
I can still make the beats stink like some salmon croquette
Go to the hood and get all the kids that I can fit
In a limo, take 'em to the store and buy 'em some sh*t
Give 'em a demo of my new sh*t 'cause it's the sh*t
And I let 'em know that they the sh*t
And they can make hits too 'cause it ain't sh*t
I gotta keep the cycle goin'
Baby doll, whichever way that they be blowin', I'm goin'
Higher than a motherf**ker, Mr. Dante
Come on, B, back me up each and every day
Whether it's hot, whether it's cold
Whether it's soft, whether it's bold
Whether it's new, whether it's old
Whether it's GOLD, or platinum, I'm stackin' 'em
Dante, baby doll, we be fly
Freestylin' like a motherf**ker, don't ask why
'Cause this ain't Budweiser
"BUD", "WEIS", "ER"
"Did you see the, thighs on her?"
We nastier then a motherf**ker, baby doll
Can I freak your sh*t, and, break your sugar walls down?
To the compound?
Bringin' up the elements, feel my elephant
Hollywood

We still party (Can't hear y'all), we gets high
(You're doin' it for TV)
Sometimes we don't feel grown-up and that's no lie (Yes)
So we party (We gotta do it), 'til we die
'Cause life is much too short for you to not be fly
That's what's happenin'

Now break it down
See, this is the time where we bring the music real low
I don't like this microphone feedback
Byron, if y'all could make your mark
Just turn me down a little bit, I'll push if I have to
You see, this song right here was made partially out of stress
Because I lost my big homie Top Dog when I did this record
That's my n***a, rest in peace
Now, I thought that hurted
But I didn't understand what pain was until Black Tone and Suga Free introduced me to this young cat named Mausberg
I got the chance to record him, and we did some hot sh*t
Then on July 4th, 2000, 2001, one of them
I got this call, like, 2 o'clock in the morning, like
"n***a, Mausberg is dead"
So, I'm like, "What you mean 'dead'? He ain't comin' to the studio tomorrow?"
They like, "No, n***a, he dead"
And that let me know that sometimes the streets can be a little bit to wretched
And y'all need to control y'all motherf**kin' guns, homeboys
'Cause y'all killed a good n***a, whoever did that sh*t
You ain't always gotta answer your problems with a pistol
Because, most of the times, some of y'all don't shoot straight
And you end up hittin' a little girl playing with her little doll babies
That sh*t ain't cool, you know what I'm sayin'
She f**kin' with Dora the Explorer and get hit with a bullet in her neck
This don't make no sense
I'm not gon' keep it here, we gon' go up
And we gon' dedicate this to all the dead homies, the Rest in Peaces
Including Mausberg
Let's give these n***as theirs
Let's show the world that we still know how to party and have a good time
Are y'all ready?
Rest in peace to all your dead homies
Put a P-Funk in the air for your dead homies
We gon' bring this sh*t back and sing, everybody in the house
(That's what's happenin') Come on

We still party (What we do for them?), we gets high
(What you do for your dead homies?)
Sometimes we don't feel grown-up and that's no lie
So we party, 'til we die (Why?)
'Cause life is much too short for you to not be fly
That's what's happenin'
We still party, we gets high (Louder)
Sometimes we don't feel grown-up and that's no lie
So we party, 'til we die
'Cause life is much too short for you to not be fly
That's what's happenin'

Verbs, that's what's happenin'
Verbs, that's what's happenin'

We love y'all, too
I wish Suga Free was here
God bless Mausberg
That's out, y'all
Go get y'all some drinks back at the bar
We out

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