I’m broke
My feet hurt
(Inside the mind of a car jacker)
And that bitch is slippin'

It makes me wanna — creep
It makes me wanna — creep
(I got somethin' for your mind, your body, and your soul)
(I got somethin' for your mind, your body, and your soul)

Damn, I’m such a G it’s pathetic
Here comes the big-headed nigga that’s dippin'
Sippin' on Courvoisier
Goddamn, I must have the floss today
Now pimpin' ain’t easy but it’s necessary
So I’m chasin' bitches like Tom chased Jerry
I’ll put the pedal to the flo'
In my two-tone Ford Explo-a
You know how it’s done
Sounds bumpin' ain’t that somethin'
Jumped on the 110
She’s flyin' in the Blazer
Like, “Go Speed Racer”, but I ain’t gonna chase her
Like Racer X, but I don’t flex
'Til it’s time to have sex
So when you wanna get togetha?
'Cause you know a nigga like me is down for whatever
And I’m down for whatever

When I was little, I didn’t wanna be like Mike
I wanted to be like Ike 'cause
Papa was a rollin' stone in the '60s
And he liked green just like Bill Bixby
Told me that my best friend was a ten and a twenty
Pockets never skinny
Played “let’s get it on” in the living room
And when he gets drunk better give him room
'Cause he’ll turn the party out
Sayin' “This is my motherfuckin' house”
And y’all gots to go through the door
And if you can’t find the door
He’ll help you with the 4-4
Talkin' much shit on the grass
And straight down to blast
I’m still in my P.J.'s
He’s in a turtleneck sweater
And we down for whatever

And I’m down
Solid pro is down for whatever
The Don Jagwar is down for whatever
And it don’t seem to stop

Now, I don’t talk a lot of shit
But when it’s time to get busy with these hos, let’s go
'Cause I’d rather see a skinhead dead
Than my niggas wearin' blue or red
'Cause I got the gift to hit them hos swift
And I’m smellin like a fifth of somethin'
Yeah, that’s right
I’m standin' in the store
Koreans act so nice
'Cause I got potentials to blow up a Winchell’s
Donut and you know what?
I’m cool like dat like Digable Planets
But don’t take a nigga for granted
'Cause, whether it’s a verdict of the L.A. Four
You just don’t know
That this rappin'-ass nigga will change with the weather
And be down for whatever

And I’m down — creep
And I’m down for whatever
Bumpin' in your Jeep
Ice Cube — devoid of pop
And I will never dance for you trick-ass niggas

It makes me wanna — creep
It makes me wanna — creep