Ho Lyrics

Ho lyrics

[Pete Nice]



Picasso the easel crusty crusty weasel



I shiggedy-shot, I shiggedy-shot the needle for the measels



If the record company's a pimp, you're a cheap slut



Pump the loot illzno, till you bust a big nut



Flex if you wanna, wanna flex



If you think you got the wrecks, yo



We be bustin necks, so



Daddy, Daddy Rich, Pete, Pete Nice the master



Father knows best, he knows best, you little bastard



Will he, will he plug ya and play ya like a fiddle



Or meddle just a little like the monkey in the middle?



It's time to fill the donut, but yo, I won't seduce ya



Word, I whip your ass from the Bronx to Tuscalusa



The big, big, big beat catcher need a big rat



Riggedy-rat bastard, can I get a soul clap?



A-clap, clap on, yo, a-clap, clap off one



Step to the rear if your material's the soft one



Yo, you got the drama class



Yo, you hit the drama fast



I vic your stash, your flag is wavin half-mast



Pete Nice, Daddy Rich, the agony defeat



(Slammed the child on the hard concrete)







(To the ladies screamin aw



The brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)







The riggy-riggin slippin, not Scottie Pippen



The drippin jheri curls like Steve Miller slippin



To the future, a moocher named Minnie vicked my ducats



Schmock as a schmock, I got your girl in a bucket



The primo, the celo, the 125th street



Beating up the herbs with the Nikes on my two feet



My head's up, I'm feds up, I'm fillin you with the diesel



If it ain't the legal, the scenario's illegal



So hey, Mr. Kincaid, when are we gonna get paid?



Punch you in the ass, sip the forties in the shade



You see, I'm real like the butts that ain't the silly-silicony



Homie don't play with the booty if it's bony



I push the rhymes like the fiendish Dick Dastardly



What's my fee? 10 g's cash, please



Hit the pawn shop with the rings, and you're hikin it



A tree grew in Brooklyn, and Dad Richie chopped it



If you got beef, get the grill and the charcoal



Hold it, now hit it now, cause yo, I know you got no (soul)







(To the ladies screamin aw



The brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)







Puffin, swigin, friggin-friggin A-1



Top of the heap, king of the hill, steppin it up to get some



Now what I know because I freak, I freak the flow



Hit you with the potent if you wanna, wanna throw



I'm Peety Weety Wheatstraw, the X watching Hee-Haw



I see-saw the open sesame is on a trap door



Peter Piper, picture pocket full of presidents



New York, New York, a hell of a town, yo, I'm a resident



If you wanna get me, I'm afraid you better shoot me



I'll do ya my way - bababui



Minister the Prime one, a butter like the parkay



Hey, hey, the Constipated Monkeys on a parlay



Switchin up the picture like the Doctor Gooden packin heat



Sweet Daddy Cream it ain't the _Krush Groove_ or _Beat Street_



Rock, rock the body rock, the truer to the hip-hop



Drop, drop a jewel, and never singin for the pop







(To the ladies screamin aw



The brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)