Rasheeda - Do It Lyrics
(feat. Pastor Troy, Re Re & Quebo Gold)[Hook:]Do it, (come on now)Do it, (come on now)Do it,(Come on) Do the damn thang[Verse 1: Rasheeda]Come on let's start this shitShawty let's crank this shitA little sumethin for them hatin' hoesWho gets nothin' but them knees and boesWhy ya'll all in my grill,Why ya'll can't keep it realAlways tryin' to plot and schemeWanna live this life is just a dreamAin't no I in teamsAll the real niggas know what it meanCatch me ya'll just to slowHatin' hoes gotta let ya'll goDon't never try to stop my flo'Won't tell you this shit no mo'Da baddest hoe that you ever seenTwo triple O, shawty bout that green[Verse 2: Que Bo Gold]Naw they don't understandThese niggas don't understandThese mutha*****ers think we playinSee they don't know what we sayinFake niggas in our grillFake niggas all in our grillThese niggas don't wanna get to itThese niggas don't wanna do it[Hook:]Do it, (come on now)Do it, (come on now)Do it,(Come on) Do the damn thang[Verse 3: Re Re]You can tell a real nigga from the fake fakeA trill nigga that's down in the cake cakeA hot girl that's clean not stank stankSome bad weave for somebodySo u took a little drankSo I guess it made u think that you could when u can'tWith the N with the ain'tAin't nobody got time round here to playing roundSucka with the big sack nigga better lay it downComin' through ain't bout that shady shitBoy I'm mo' dirty than Dusty RhodesI drop the beat and rock the flo'Representing that Que Bo GoldSo don't you try to test us out thinkin' we country with no skillsCause I drop the bass and tame the bassPut this fire to yo grill[Verse 4: Rasheeda]Well I was born in Illinois okay ahRaised in Atlanta, G-A yahLived in New York and L.A. yahMy nigga I'm da shit no matter where I stayCause, uh, I was cut like that, lil buddy I'm stacked like thatFrom da front to da side to da back, Rasheeda, and I'm tight like thatI ain't never been worried bout anothaCutter her buddy, lil buddy I don't studder9 double lock chrome for the lame lameBig faces in my pocket not the chump changeRide the Benz with the wood grain, grilled out, smoke frame,With the knock knock38 pop pop all you haters just stopOr you gone get dropped[Hook:]Do it, (come on now)Do it, (come on now)Do it,(Come on) Do the damn thang[Verse 4: Pastor Troy]Brrrrdt! Uh, Stick em, ha ha ha, stick em***** dem ***** niggas and who ever with emAll I say is sic emAnd there go my boysD-S-G-B, Pastor damn TroyBoy you ain't readyBoy you don't want itBoy we ain't ready, ***** get disappointedShit, all I know is southern blo'd not lower than a dimeFrom thirty piece to quarter ki we strictly on da grindNo time to spit no evidence, no evidence, no chargeSince they ain't got no evidenceI gave them my lil boyThe scars from my hand as I crank up the speakerDrop the bomb on you *****es, Pastor and Rasheeda*****, do it![Hook:]Do it, (come on now)Do it, (come on now)Do it,(Come on) Do the damn thang
