Lord Finesse - Pull Ya Card Lyrics
* 2003 Fat Beats Records version[ VERSE 1: Lord Finesse ]I wonder how brothers' heads are screwed onWhen they frontin around town with the next man jewels onTalkin 'bout they could've been a starSportin turned off beepers, drivin around in rented carsThat only happens in AmericaWhen you catch a brother frontin with a turned off cellularOut there tryin to jingleLike he's the mutha*****in man and got a knot full of singlesAnd always half-steppinCause even at a dice game niggas gotta start ass-bettinThey have the whole plan plottedTill you say, "Celo, everybody pay up," they yell: ("My man gotta")Kickin game at randomHis favorite line is: ("Don't worry, I'ma hit you off when my man come")And how claim he got powerWhen he doesn't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out ofAnd always frontin like the other kidsNot a dime to his name and still livin in his mother's cribSo why you're frontin like you're large?Don't front on me, nigga, I pull your mutha*****in card[ CHORUS (4X) ]Pull they cards, yo, tell em how you feelI gotta it lay it on down (on the real to real) --> Large Professor[ VERSE 2: Lord Finesse ]Nowadays hoes is ahead of ya(Why you say that?) Cause *****es be frontin on the regularFor instance, take the neighborhood freakLet her get a outfit and her hair done and the ***** won't speakFrontin and actin all flyBut pull up in a 535 and homegirl'll be like: ("Hi...")Girls kick the same old song(As long as he got money everything is alright) WrongYo, she's all out of orderWhen she barely keeps a quarter lookin for a brother to support herHangin out and she stay frontinWear the tightest shit and get mad when a mutha*****a say somethinCatch homegirl walkin throughAnd be like: ("What's up shorty?") She be like: ("Who you think you talkin to?")Me, I'm quick to say, "Walk, hoe"And save that conversation for a talk showYou wanna know what Finesse think?I don't give sluts enough to make they mutha*****in breath stinkEspecially when they frontin like starsI shout ya out, *****, and pull your mutha*****in card[ CHORUS ][ VERSE 3: Lord Finesse ]Nowadays you got jerks frontinThe softest niggas talkin 'bout they wanna hurt somethinMatter of fact, I know plenty of fraudsThe way brothers act, they deserve mutha*****in Emmy AwardsNowadays brothers ruin rapWith all this murder and the killin when them niggas don't be doin thatYou startin to bore me, fellasY'all ain't murderers, but yo, y'all great *****in storytellersI speak what I feelAnd if niggas ain't real, then keep they *****in lip sealedBecause they front like vandalsRunnin all them scandals when they softer than Tevin Campbell("I kill a nigga") That's what most sayWhen they wouldn't shoot a fly off the wall if they had a can of roach spraySo why you're frontin like you're hard?Don't front on me, nigga, I pull your mutha*****in card
