CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Watchu Rappin For?
(x2)
He rapping for the b*t*hes
He rapping for the fame
I'm rapping for the riches
And plusses in my veins
I'm rapping for the skrilla
And plus for the fact that I just love this sh*t
I don't give a damn 'bout the fame or how many dames wanna suck this d**k (yeah)
I'm going for profit and ain't gonna stop it till pockets is filled with fifties
You want the designer clothes, I stick to my white T-shirt and d**kies
Never been no faker
Never been no punk or sucker neither
I can lyrically kill you with one verse or mothaf**ka heater
I don't understand why
Mothaf**kas just stand by
Bopping they head to a song when they know that the lyricist just a damn lie
For one, I don't rap about sh*t unless I feel it
For two, anybody wanna try tell me what to rap about they can kill it
For three, I don't rap about cars or clothes every once in a while I rap about hoes I suppose you could say that I be on that sick sh*t
Rap about life staying on my toes (yeah)
And another mothaf**ka might try to say you gotta be commercial to succeed
But I gotta keep it real gotta come from the heart
Gotta rap about what I live and breath
And never will I be that mothaf**ka selling out for MTV
I'mma keep it gutter while they gill-head me
Rapping on the front porch or an MP3
Them CD's mothaf**kers dropping nowadays talking 'bout the same sh*t
Everybody wanna rap about the bling bling
I don't wanna hear about yo chain b*t*h
Regardless of the brain for the dames and the fame I'mma keep on doing my thang
And that will never change, cause this game is in my veins
He rapping for the b*t*hes
He rapping for the fame
I'm rapping for the riches
And plusses in my veins
I'm rapping for the skrilla
And plus for the fact that I just love this sh*t
I don't give a damn 'bout the fame or how many dames wanna suck this d**k (yeah)
I'm going for profit and ain't gonna stop it till pockets is filled with fifties
You want the designer clothes, I stick to my white T-shirt and d**kies
Never been no faker
Never been no punk or sucker neither
I can lyrically kill you with one verse or mothaf**ka heater
I don't understand why
Mothaf**kas just stand by
Bopping they head to a song when they know that the lyricist just a damn lie
For one, I don't rap about sh*t unless I feel it
For two, anybody wanna try tell me what to rap about they can kill it
For three, I don't rap about cars or clothes every once in a while I rap about hoes I suppose you could say that I be on that sick sh*t
Rap about life staying on my toes (yeah)
And another mothaf**ka might try to say you gotta be commercial to succeed
But I gotta keep it real gotta come from the heart
Gotta rap about what I live and breath
And never will I be that mothaf**ka selling out for MTV
I'mma keep it gutter while they gill-head me
Rapping on the front porch or an MP3
Them CD's mothaf**kers dropping nowadays talking 'bout the same sh*t
Everybody wanna rap about the bling bling
I don't wanna hear about yo chain b*t*h
Regardless of the brain for the dames and the fame I'mma keep on doing my thang
And that will never change, cause this game is in my veins
