Something Good
    (专辑: Too Hard To Swallow - 1992)
    
    [Pimp C:]  One with a 
trigger, two with a 
bat  Three big brothers, fo' wanna squab with me  So I 
guess a 
brother gotta throw  Tell 'em like this, ya better get up out my camp dude  Befo' I 
have to pull my gat and get, real rude  I 
don't figure that it's worth gettin hurt  Just 'cause ya gal wanna give me that skirt  Bet it feels funny when ya doin 69  Knowin that ya sippin on all my jimmy wine  And when ya get a 
kiss, do ya feel bad  Knowin that ya swallowed all the 
skeeter that I 
had?  You wanna step to me but I 
don't really think ya should  I 
shoulda shot you up instead I 
told ya somethin good   [Chorus: sampled from Chaka Khan & Rufus' "Something Good"]  TELL me something GOOD (Ohhh, baby, baby, baby yeah)  TELL me something GOOD (Oh yeaaaaah... yeah)  Tell-TELL me something GOOD (Ohhhhhhh-HOO!, tell me, tell me...)  TELL me something GOOD (Ohhh, baby, baby, baby yeah)   [Bun B:]  Aiyyo, what's up with that bulge in ya khakis?  You wanna pack a 
gat, but you STILL ain't got the 
pull to come and jack me  You betta bring a 
gangload of homies when you think you wanna throw  Cause by yourself, you're runnin to the 
flo'  I 
seen your kind befo', man ya nothin with your hands  More than a 
punk but still less than a 
man  You talk a 
lot of nothin when ya chillin with the 
ladies  Let me catch ya by yourself, you're pushin up some daisies  See crazy you wanna be, but punks with no heart, they ain't hard  They just waitin for Bun to pull they card  You betta keep your weak self locked in ya hood  Cause without your boys I'm a 
have to tell ya somethin good   [Chorus]   (Ohhhhhhh-HOO!)   [Pimp C:]  Brothers nowadays got a 
habit that they really need to stop  Gettin all shot over a 
girl that I 
done popped  You need to check ya girl and what she did in the 
past  Cause if you know like me, you would drop her REAL fast  But I 
don't trust the 
dugout, cause I'm scared of that disease  Cause she's passing out the 
skinz like government cheese  But not me player, cause Pimp C 
wanna live  Have you had your test? Are you H-I positive?  But instead of gettin checked you wanna fight with me  You need to check ya blood and let somebody check your teeth  But if you don't step, I'm a 
drop on ya fast  And pump off bullets like government cash  I 
didn't do ya girl but your sister was alright  Took her to my homeboy's Caddy last night [girl moaning in the 
background]  She waxed my jimmy, and then the 
little street tramp  Did me on a 
box of tens and a 
Pioneer amp  I 
hit if from the 
back, and the 
girl just THREW ME  Told me, "Pump it harder," and she scratched me on my BOOTY  Now everybody in the 
world  Know that your sister is a 
nasty lil' girl   [Chorus 1/2]   [Bun B:]  Let's talk about these half-n-half punks  By day they sorry bastards, at night they talkin bout, poppin trunks  Butter .25 can't keep you alive  From a 
sawed-off, fool so I 
hope you survive  See bluffin might save ya tail one day  But who's ta say, it won't catch ya next week, on the 
runway?  You might shoot a 
few shots in the 
wind  But the 
same time tomorrow, you'll be runnin again  Now can you keep it up, every damn night?  You steady runnin to the 
argument but runnin from the 
fight  What's the 
deal man? Why don't you take your Raiders cap off?  Cause one of these days, you gonna getcha head slapped off  You cain't keep a 
crew cause they gettin sick of seein you bail  Like a 
punk'll hit the 
backstreet trail  And the 
women don't like you cause ya act like them  And that's why your little jimmy never went fo' a 
swim  Ya talk about slangin, makin G's  But I 
saw a 
fiend chase ya from, BJ's up to Mickey D's  Now everyday punks get took  Either for they dough, they'll ride 'em for the 
powder that they cook  You bookin from the 
scene cause ya couldn't hold ya own  A 
40 ounce bottle slams, ya dead to your dome  Now you want revenge, so ya get your automatic  Find a 
group of hard-heads, and startin kickin static  Ya pulled ya little chrome but these fools got gats  Try to run and caught two buckshots in ya back  Now you nothin but a 
memory that's gone in a 
slayin  So when I 
tell you somethin good, punk I 
don't be playin