Prime Minister Pete Nice & Daddy Rich - Ho Lyrics
[Pete Nice]Picasso the easel crusty crusty weaselI shiggedy-shot, I shiggedy-shot the needle for the measelsIf the record company's a pimp, you're a cheap slutPump the loot illzno, till you bust a big nutFlex if you wanna, wanna flexIf you think you got the wrecks, yoWe be bustin necks, soDaddy, Daddy Rich, Pete, Pete Nice the masterFather knows best, he knows best, you little bastardWill he, will he plug ya and play ya like a fiddleOr meddle just a little like the monkey in the middle?It's time to fill the donut, but yo, I won't seduce yaWord, I whip your ass from the Bronx to TuscalusaThe big, big, big beat catcher need a big ratRiggedy-rat bastard, can I get a soul clap?A-clap, clap on, yo, a-clap, clap off oneStep to the rear if your material's the soft oneYo, you got the drama classYo, you hit the drama fastI vic your stash, your flag is wavin half-mastPete Nice, Daddy Rich, the agony defeat(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)(To the ladies screamin awThe brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)The riggy-riggin slippin, not Scottie PippenThe drippin jheri curls like Steve Miller slippinTo the future, a moocher named Minnie vicked my ducatsSchmock as a schmock, I got your girl in a bucketThe primo, the celo, the 125th streetBeating up the herbs with the Nikes on my two feetMy head's up, I'm feds up, I'm fillin you with the dieselIf it ain't the legal, the scenario's illegalSo hey, Mr. Kincaid, when are we gonna get paid?Punch you in the ass, sip the forties in the shadeYou see, I'm real like the butts that ain't the silly-siliconyHomie don't play with the booty if it's bonyI push the rhymes like the fiendish Dick DastardlyWhat's my fee? 10 g's cash, pleaseHit the pawn shop with the rings, and you're hikin itA tree grew in Brooklyn, and Dad Richie chopped itIf you got beef, get the grill and the charcoalHold it, now hit it now, cause yo, I know you got no (soul)(To the ladies screamin awThe brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)Puffin, swigin, friggin-friggin A-1Top of the heap, king of the hill, steppin it up to get someNow what I know because I freak, I freak the flowHit you with the potent if you wanna, wanna throwI'm Peety Weety Wheatstraw, the X watching Hee-HawI see-saw the open sesame is on a trap doorPeter Piper, picture pocket full of presidentsNew York, New York, a hell of a town, yo, I'm a residentIf you wanna get me, I'm afraid you better shoot meI'll do ya my way - bababuiMinister the Prime one, a butter like the parkayHey, hey, the Constipated Monkeys on a parlaySwitchin up the picture like the Doctor Gooden packin heatSweet Daddy Cream it ain't the _Krush Groove_ or _Beat Street_Rock, rock the body rock, the truer to the hip-hopDrop, drop a jewel, and never singin for the pop(To the ladies screamin awThe brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)
