Check Yo Self

You betta check yo self for you wreck yo self
Cause I’m bad for your health
I come real stealth
Droppin bombs on ya moms, fuck car alarms
Do without one mother nigga wit yo Alpine
Sold it for six-o, always let tricks know
And friends know, we got that indoe
Yo I’m not a sucka, sittin in A House of Pain
And no I’m not the butler, I’ll cut ya Head-butt ya, you say you can’t touch this
And I wouldn’t touch ya, punk motherfucker
Here to let you know boy, oh boy
I make dough, but don’t call me Dough-Boy
This ain’t no fuckin picture
A guy or bitch-a, my nigga get wit ya And hit ya, makin they yack to the neck
So you better run a check
Tricks wanna step to Cube and then they get played
Cause they bitch may pullin out a switchblade
That’s kinda trifle, cause that’s a knife-o AK-47, assault rifle
Hold the fifty, I’m nifty now,
I hate motherfuckers claimin that they foldin bank
But steady talkin shit in the holdin tank
First you wanna step to me, now your ass screamin for the deputy
They send you to Charlie-Baker-Denver row, now the runnin up in ya slow
You’re God, used to be the Don Juan, now your name is just Twan
Switch it, snap it, rollin your eyes and neck, you better run a check
Big dick in ya ass is bad for your health
If you’re foul you better run a make on that license plate you coulda had a V8
Instead of a trey-eight slug to ya cranium
I got six and I’m aimin em Will I bus or keep you guessin
Cause fuck you and that shit ya stressin
Bitch, get off the wood, you no good
There goes the neighborhood hooker
Go ahead and keep your drawers
givin up the claps and who needs applause at a time like this, pop ya coochie and ya dead
Bitch is a Miami Hurricane head
Sprung, niggas call her lips and lungs
Nappy dugout, get the fuck out
Cause women like you gets no respect
Bitch, you better run a check
Cause bitches like you is bad for my health
Cause the Lench Mob is bad for ya health
Nine-trey, remix, old school tip, yeah
It’s like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder how I keep from goin under