Paroles de la chanson Give Them What They Ask For par Pitbull

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Paroles de la chanson Give Them What They Ask For par Pitbull

Fuck that club (Shit)
They want that thug (Shit)
But I ain't no thug, bitch
And I ain't no gangsta, bitch
I'm a hustler, ho
And I got no problem
If you want it, you can get it
Boy, I bust you

Anybody wanna test? Hi, who? Me
P-I to the motherfuckin' T
It's not my fault that your bitch chose me
Now her and her girlfriend wanna do me
This is for those boys in those Chevys, sittin' on them King James
Them 2-3s

And if you got a problem with me, holler at my lawyer
Bitch, sue me
I'm tired of the fuck-boy rap, fuck-boy this, fuck-boy that
Watch a couple movies and they put it in they rhyme
Those wanna be fiddlers
I'm straight, you get shot nine times
Ten years in the game, since 99, I was speakin' my mind (Yes, sir)
And then shit changed, if you got a problem
Bitch, cross Dade County line

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that street talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that chopper talk

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that dope talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
That trap-boy jackboy shit

I'ma tell y'all boy, y'all boys got me fucked up (Yeah, straight up)
Better duck when them things buck
I ain't nigga boy, nigga what? Nigga who? Who the fuck is you?
Talkin' to me like you know me
Ain't your dog, ain't your buddy, ain't your homie
Nah brah, not me
And if you spit it, better live it, better in fact, better show me
I'ma make em say uhh, not even Master P could crack like this

And you ain't never seen a chico in the gang this raw since pawn that could rap like this (TS)
I hear them and they raps about the coke and the crack
And the click to the clack, but to me, it's chit-chat
Blam, motherfucker, take that, now

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that street talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that chopper talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that dope talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
That trap-boy jackboy shit

I'ma spit it, flip it, rip it for them boys

Makin digits off the coke when they whip it
Ride a stick, double clip it
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississipi
Cock back, click it, blam
Poppin' what you think is last
What you wanna do is get found in a trunk in a lake and stankin'
I took my money from the shoebox, now I bank it
Foolish, ain't it?

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that street talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that chopper talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that dope talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for

That trap-boy jackboy shit

Fuck that club (Shit)
They want that thug (Shit)
But I ain't no thug, bitch
And I ain't no gangsta, bitch
I'm a hustler, ho
And I got no problem
If you want it you, can get it, 'fo I bust you

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