That's What I'm Talking About Lyrics - Revenge Of The Barracuda - W.c.

They call me dubcuda was the last name 

Money in my lap doin a buck in the fast lane 

The passion of a husler I got it 

And if it aint about money I don't wanna talk about it 

The passion of a husler I got it 

And if it aint about money I don't wanna talk about it 

Chorus 

Now lemme see your fingers in the sky 

And if you like money keep em up high 

Stand up put your hands up 

Show me what you all about 

Real shit nigga 

Yeah that's what I'm talkin' bout 

Getting' it in out of the concrete boots 

In a coupe a hundred ten 

Blowin like a flute 

Fresh off of lockdown 

Straight out the chute 

Nigga down for whatever 

Still all about the loot 

The property of poverty 

The looters of youth 

Now it's denim on the leather 

While removing the roof 

The hog on the hog 

With the "D's" on the Deuce 

And you can blame it on the alcohol 

The weed and the juice look. 

Load up my weaponry 

Starter cap to the left of me 

You know when I rep a "C" 

Dub S to the death of me 

Motherfuckers wasn't respectin' me 

But im all up in your chest with heat 

Givin you sideline bitter niggas vasectomies 

Till I rest in peace 

Hustle the recipe 

Your niggas a bitch baby 

you need to sit next to me 

Dub Cuda the bandana dangler 

O T countin dirty money with the hanky up 

Chorus 

(?) you 

Shake the (?) off you 

Comin again please 

Gimme something to walk too 

I can't leave see 

For all of my niggas 

Who don't wear tight jeans 

up they ass needs me 

went independent last CD 

still sold a shitload of records 

no radio or TV 

and Im stickin to the program 

Chucks on the concrete 

While the Cadillac door slams 

The "W" was my star symbol 

My jams make niggas get down 

Like barrels out of car windows 

Im a nut for Cheese and chuck T's 

Addicted to big butt cheeks an weaves 

Not a pop artist 

But I'll pop they heezee 

A branch of the same tree as 

Pac & Eazy 

Bumpin Jam Master Jay & Biggie 

Iron on the stove 

Shakin up the starch can 

Sprayin my Dickies 

Chorus 

Now who that nigga quick to shoot it 

Cap at the truest 

The closest to the streets to do it 

Me 

The D Fisher in this rap shit im a vet 

In a blue pro (?) tied around the neezeck 

Your future baby daddy I might be 

You aint never been with a nigga like me 

Baby slide me you number 

Ill call you later this weekend 

I can't talk now 

I'm on my way to rob the weed man 

Love by a few hated by majurity 

Im the reason these rappers keep security 

I go hard kick gears and jump cars 

Chuckin up the hood 

Three wheelin in your front yard 

You niggas is temporary 

Facebook Gangstas 

I put faces on obituaries nigga 

Chorus