Murder Was the Case movie - Dollaz + Sense lyrics
rate meSong by DJ Quik<br /><br>
Mmm<br>
Now let's get down to business, bitches<br>
Cause it seems like y'all just keep on tryin to diss this<br>
Nigga that you know that's been down for years<br>
I've clowned for years, and y'all could never fade my peers<br>
One two three four five six seven<br>
Nine, ten, Eiht you can't win<br>
Cause all the way around nigga I gets respect<br>
and youse a nigga that can't even get no props in your set<br>
Tragniew Park you say huh<br>
Wanna be rippin, but now it's time to do some set trippin<br>
So listen close, cause I don't want y'all to miss<br>
That I'm bout to break it down for this bitch, check it<br>
Acacia, Poplar Maple Spruce Cedar Elm<br>
Westside trees sprayin all the fleas<br>
that's from the three and four hundred block P-Funk riders<br>
(So niggaz watch yo' ass at that center divider [gun blast])<br>
Now Aaron Tyler, tell my why you seem so tame<br>
When I caught you at the airport, shakin like a crap game<br>
You looked up and you seen my niggaz comin<br>
And you looked like your bitch ass was bout to start runnin<br>
But all I wanted to do was kick a little coversation (yo whatup)<br>
And see if we can fix this little situation<br>
But would I fuck you up was what you wondered<br>
Yeah, that's probably why you changed your little pager number (punk ass)<br>
But bitches like you don't grow<br>
You can't even look me in my eye, let alone go toe to toe<br>
And callin me skinny, youse a clown<br>
I'ma call you Theo, cause you weigh ninety-two point three pounds<br>
Wack ass actor, movie script killer<br>
Fool don't you know, Quik is still the nigga<br>
Compton psycho, boy you oughta quit<br>
Your records don't hit, and bitches don't jock your shit<br>
You need to stay down you Compton clown<br>
and get off of the nuts of the niggaz with guts<br>
Because I'm down with the Trees, I'm down with Death Row<br>
I'm down with Black Tone, and I'm down with the fo'<br>
So when we cross paths and I hope that's soon<br>
I'ma boot your motherfuckin ass to the moon<br>
You need to quit bangin under false pretense<br>
Cause if don't make dollars, it don't make sense<br>
<br>
[chorus]<br>
<br>
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense<br>
So don't kill game, let the pimpin commence<br>
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense<br>
So don't kill game, let the people, commence<br>
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense<br>
So don't kill game, let the pimpin commence<br>
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense<br>
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince<br>
<br>
Now I'ma swing it to the right and, right into the left hand<br>
Take a deep breath and, cook it like a chef and<br>
this is dedicated to the C-P-T<br>
No better yet T-T-P, or the niggaz that look up to me<br>
I make it my business, to be that true forever<br>
and whenever I can come clever well that's my endeavor<br>
so whether or not you understand, that there's only one DJ Q-U-I-K<br>
with no C still you can't be me<br>
Because I'm floatin in my Lex and, depositin fat checks and<br>
gettin mad sex while I floss the NSX and<br>
doin what I wanna, and youse a goner nigga<br>
for thinkin that you can catch me slippin on a street corner<br>
Remember Compton's in the house, and Quik is in the hood<br>
Sippin yak with all my niggaz cause it's tooted good<br>
So don't knock it til you try it, cause Eiht he tried to knock it<br>
But he's still walkin round with my nuts in his pocket (beyotch)<br>
So put tha P in it represent and sip that Miller<br>
And for those of y'all concerned, this is still Eiht Killa [gun blast]<br>
Let me take a load off my scrotum little pest<br>
If it don't make dollers nigga, you know the rest<br>
<br>
[chorus]<br>
<br>
Now I done sold my fuckin soul to the shit that I kick<br>
While you groupie ass niggaz keep on ridin the dick<br>
You oughta know that DJ Quik ain't your average everyday motherfucker<br>
(hah) Slick like a snake cause I stuck ya<br>
Now, I never had my dick sucked by a man befo'<br>
But you gon be the first you little trick ass hoe<br>
Then you can tell me just how it taste<br>
But before I nut I shoot some piss in your face<br>
you fuckin coward, tremblin like a nervous wreck<br>
Cause when I caught your ass, you put yourself in check<br>
And when you left my presence, you left expedient<br>
You ain't no fuckin killer, youse a comedian, beyotch<br>
Tell me why you act so scary<br>
Givin your set a bad name wit your misspelled name<br>
E-I-H-T, now should I continue<br>
Yeah you left out the G cause the G ain't in you<br>
Remember that time you was rollin on the Westside<br>
And a little brown bucket pulled up on your side<br>
Caught at that light in your Camry in the midst of a<br>
REAL killer, tell me did you feel a little nervous (hell yeah)<br>
You was in the shadow of death<br>
With two trey-five-sevens pointed at your chest, hmm<br>
Whatchu gon do, where was your niggaz that kill at<br>
You ain't got no killers so kill dat<br>
Holdin up your hands and beggin for a pass<br>
You lucky they didn't just to get to dumpin on yo' ass<br>
Cause this game you think is funny is some real shit<br>
So you need to be more careful who you fuckin wit, beyotch!<br>
<br>
[chorus]<br>
[line 4] I'm through playin with your punk ass<br>
<br>
Shouts goes out, to my well known road dog<br>
What's up Dozun Tru, they don't understand it baby<br>
they can't fade us out here on these Compton streets (beyotch)<br>
It's bigger than they can imagine<br>
To the whole entire Death Row family<br>
Both sides, whassup niggaz<br>
And my nigga big Suge, known for keepin shit poppin<br>
To my nigga Big J, my little nigga Hi-C, little straight G<br>
And that little singin ass nigga Danny Boy<br>
Y'all don't understand, y'all can't fade this<br>
I'M the first nigga that was "Bangin on Wax"<br>
Yeah if you remember, nineteen eighty-seven underground tapes<br>
And it don't stop, and it won't stop<br>
<br>