Friday Night

Damn, this a bitch We ain't gotta motherfuckin' thin'g Ring CJ do what he doin' in Cali-for-ni-a ayy (Hello?) Hey, wuz up nigga, it's Face (What up Fizzace?) Feelin' I'm gone come fuck with you (Come on down loco) Ayy, please have some bitches, please (Ha-ha-ha) ha-ha-ha Locc, I been hustlin' all week Tonight's the night I dips 'n try to step up in a freak I call this ho named Tiki, she got homies we can twist All we need's some chronic and a motherfuckin' fifth Is you with me Locc? What's mine is yours and what's yours is mines When I'm in Houston you be treatin' me fine I scoop you up in L-A-X around six I scootch you through the hood, then we gone get up in these tricks It's Friday night Two players in a black Five-O-O Slidin' down the shore, gettin' at every fly ho I'm with my homey, ain't nobody set trippin' Drops my shit off at his house and then we kept flippin' Now see y'know your nigga don't sleep Homey enough and see Well, hand your nigga some heat So I can feel warm in these cold ass LA streets Now hook ya nigga wit some LA freaks, baby It's Friday night Straight sellin' with my Texas G Stayin' sucka free as I L-O-C (it's Friday night) Two players on a hood rat chase You niggas can't see me and you can't see my nigga face First thang we do is hit the club I'm seein' hella bitches in the corners tryin' to show your homey love This bitch is fly as a bird And gotta ass that could swang from California all the way up through Pittsburgh Hold up Locc (What?) I know that flea She been out 'n club hoppin' since '83 (ain't this a bitch) And the bitch is still hoin' See, get at broke bitch and fake smile and keep strollin' Locc (right!) See them busters in the corner, they don't like my hood I don't like their hood so it ain't all good So keep ya eyes on 'em 'Cause if it just the bottom line, we gotta slide on 'em Ride on 'em I gots no problem kickin' dust up with punk ass little busters Who wants to try to buck us, we grab these guns and bust 'em I gots that ten millimeter in the parkin' lot Fuck 'em Locc, we gots some bitches at the Marriott Straight sellin' with my Texas G Stayin' sucka free as I L-O-C It's Friday night You motherfuckers better chill Before you fuck around and lose and get your cap peeled Jumps on the elevator, hops off the six floor Knocks on the door of room 604 Gets greeted by the biggest pair of thighs you wanna see With a pair just like a mona homegirl G See, vee like the mix and vee like the twist of 'em Face, you can hit it first and then we can switch It ain't no fun if my homey can't twist a bitch (ha-ha-ha God damn) I'll dare ya ass to try to run that 2Pac shit I goes high-ho silver like the fuckin' Moan Ranger Playin' here's out my dick in'side a total fuckin' stranger You fuckin' with a Texas cowboy, I puts it down boy You ready for the second go (you know it!) I go two or three hours and I'm sendin' these bitches off on their way (See ya!) You's a fool CJ! (Nigga, how you like the southern California freakin'?) Dogg, I'll be back every motherfuckin' weekend It's Friday night Straight sellin' with my Texas OG Stayin' sucka free as I L-O-C It's Friday night You motherfuckers better lay back ('Cause you can't see that Face) Or it's just the nigga C-Mack Yeah, Mr. Scarface and CJ Mack Puttin' in much work for Rap-A-Lot and Rap-A-Lot West for the nine-five You motherfuckers better stay down 'Cause y'all punks couldn't see us with ultrasound Coward You motherfuckers couldn't see us with glasses on He-he, you know what I'm sayin'?