2000 Lyrics

2000 lyrics

Yeah, bleep bleep bleep

Hey yo this is how we gonna hit it off...



Chorus:



So drop the kronkite nigga (2000)

Check
out how we flip shit for (2000)

Stud doogie runnin’ shit for (2000)

Grand puba flippin’ shit for (2000)



Here comes the brotha
from the future

Man, I got what suits ya

Fake mc’s go away and
let your label prostitute ya

Give me my space and let the swinger
swing

Nigga don’t you know that jane can’t even stop this crazy
thang

I like to boast cause I’m the host with the most

Bag a few
honeys and i’m... (space ghost!!!)

I got niggas head-bobbin’ with no
problem

I kick 31 flavors so call me basket robbins, uhh

I gets
down cause I travel like sound

Grand puba’s so fast they got my picture
on a greyhound

Here goes the tizm, get ya lifted like izm

If these
devils ain’t got my money then I got some off the prison

So honey
here’s more than a rent

For dollars and sense, see I leave shit bent

So don’t even come with that 69, hon

Cause I told ya last time, 68
and I owe ya one

Back up and let puba do his thing,

Cause a nigga
wanna krib like eddie murphy had a boomerang

So butt niggas get the
steppin’

I gets to the root like beer

Lyrics flow like an
automatic weapon

You can’t see this or much greater,

Rough like
terminator, sendin’ niggas down like elevators

So like beavis and
butthead...(he he he he)

Go away like 94, we drop the kronkite nigga



Chorus



No shame in the game I puts the pedal to the
metal

Be a father to my son, ask the bulldogs and pedal (? )

Puba
gots that shit that hits in every ghetto

Straight from new york, l.a. to
____

Honey, there’s no need to hunt

Whatever you want, just make
sure when you come you bring a blunt

This is for the year
2-circle-circle-circle

Niggas lookin’ stupid like their spotted and
they urkel

Did I say that? 

Doogie hits the scratch

Niggas
can’t match, baggin’ bootys by the batch

That’s how we do at a
theatre near you

Do the show, bag the doe and disappear like the zoo

Then I hit home, to rest my dome

Unplug the phone and put a joint on
the bone

I kick the style longtime ya know

Niggas can’t see this,
so you know how that shit goes

Nigga it’s gonna take a miracle

Call me a cab so I can ___ away and catch your hi-di-hi-di-ho

Fuck
that, my style’s all that and a bag of snacks

Ran through jersey and
the pussycat

I’m the scooby with the doo

I like my philly with
the brew

All y’all niggas talkin’ shit about puba, fuck you...

Ya know what you can do? 

You can lick the twins when I pull ’em
outta skins

And I put ’em in your face, you can tell me how it
tastes

Cause it’s the kronkite, nigga



Chorus