Ladies N Gentlemen Lyrics

[Intro] Party people in the place to be Party people in the place to be Party people in the place to be Ladies N Gentlemen, he's BDB A.K.A. you host for the evening By your people, he believin in fake MC's [Buckshot] A lot of y'all, think you know it all Want me to fall, but y'all the same niggas at the party on the wall Askin shorty to dance, do she wanna groove, no chance She fuckin wit Buck, I'm on the move, you understand Stupid, wise up and get intelligent See that hardcore speakin is irrelevant Teachin, when I'm on the streets and When I'm at a show I see my niggas is defeatin The purpose, no longer am I nervous I told you, you shittin on me, I'm comin back to blow you When I do this, don't act like it's a shock to you If I shock you when you bow down, say true Now you can say you knew you was fuckin wit the general But generally speakin, I didn't even know you But I knew your kind, I dealt wit the same mind Saw the same plan, ended at the same time [Chorus] Party people in the place to be Party people in the place to be Party people in the place to be Ladies N Gentlemen, he's BDB A.K.A. you host for the evening By your people, he believin in fake MC's Buck got plenty extra greevin, breathin You know that I shall proceed [Buckshot] I can't wait to get rid of y'all Captain Crunch niggas on the mic One hit wonders, scared of the under, I'mma bring the light To make ya niggas come out of the closet You might have to see me in the party, watch it I set the flame, see usually the aim is To burn down the cane field, must remain real Keep the stainless steel Bulletproofs the proof that the streets is real Two shots to the belly, now the body feel ill I will take ya niggas right above the hill And everybody got the skill, one spliff Two, three, four spliffs, and make ya ball out Everybody call out, it's the black, that make you lay back in the cut And ask "What the fuck is that?" nigga chill, relax [Chorus] [Buckshot] I bomb first, leavin no time for you to rehearse When you hear the gunshots, nigga disperse Shit gets worse if you persist, and tryin to diss, son, imagine this The vocalist, every time I told you this You told me that you knew in that I owned you this What owned you this? My niggas be retaliate Had to make an example of niggas and demonstrate How we don't fuck around wit y'all We might bring the pound for y'all, bust a round at ya Police put the shell up in the jar, for the evidence Kid, ever since I was fifteen, I was liftin Big clips and magazines, readin them and heatin them Put them in the bottom for the enemy to plead son shot him Got him cuz he want to be the talker and the big spender Until he got hit, bump the fender Now he's misdemeanor minded, always caught up in some petty shit Til he got wit BD, now he ready, kid [Chorus]