- Votes:
- Composers:
- Blake
- David Marvin / Miller
- Craig Antoine / Sermon
- Erick S.
 
- See also:
Dj Quik - U Ain't Fresh lyrics
(Verse 1 - DJ Quik)
 I know you like to do ecstacy, and then forget where you are
 Be up in a room with a stripper, and your homie Lamar
 Now that's a nasty threesome, a straight mis-match
 Instead of bangin' on the broad, you'd rather open his hatch
 And start packin'... and get some dookie on your tip
 Don't look now, you got a loogie on your lip
 Next time video tape it, let us all see it
 This is Sir Herb, I'll put you on the web - you pervert
 The number 23 on the beats, 'bout to do ya
 Mister Blake A.K.A. DJ Quik talkin' to ya
 And I'll prove I'm proper and yo game is whack with 1 line
 I'll never put my name on a track that wasn't mine
 This hip-hip shit, is getting stupid again
 These niggas gun-tottin', fightin', gettin' rutless again
 There's a message in the Big Book, didn't you read it?
 It say if niggas don't remember the past, they gonn' repeat it
 So I'm into ???ated
 That ground heart-stated
 And we all made it
 If you want a hit, nigga, call David
 The first name basis, depends on how the pay is
 50 under the table do it enough, don't need a label
 'Cause I rob from the rich and I... gives to the ?floor?
 The ground-level ground shovel diggin' up some more
 So let's stay focused 'cause the chip is the prize
 Now put your shit in first, nigga, and shift it to rise
 And like Frank Nitti, ?We 2-degree?
 And you haters trippin' cause I got the key to the city
 Not a sissy but the hoes keep callin' us pretty
 And you mad 'cause the bitch got me on her titty
 Mr. Troutman talk me talkbox, do why diddy!
 And I'll tell you to your ear, nigga, you sound shitty
 I'll take your hoe up to the room and show her no pity
 So call me DJ Meow Mix 'cause we gets kitty (meow)
 Scratchin' all the fleas off of these
 Stayin' high off of trees
 Top villian, and enjoyin' the breeze
 And the time I'm spendin' in yo bitch, a supreme blast
 In the back of my S-500 playin' Dreamcast
 (Chorus)
 You Ain't Fresh (7x)
 You a busta, nigga!
 You Ain't Fresh (7x)
 You a busta, nigga!
 (Verse 2 - Erick Sermon)
 Yo, yo, I'm into somethin' new, hoppin' through
 Quicker than the Compton Crew, and Y too
 Yo, what you wanna do? You ain't fresh!
 No contest - we cook like Raekwon the Chef
 And write for the skills, get set for the kill
 And prep for the meals, after that we chill
 The E-R-I-C-K is my name, I spellDj Quik - U Ain't Fresh - http://motolyrics.com/dj-quik/u-aint-fresh-lyrics.html
 Bring it back like '92, with clientele
 And keep shit right, and make sure the sound excite
 Nigga in affect, like flashlight
 Quik and I do it 'til death
 In the house 'yall, blackin' out like Red & Meth
 Thick-boned women, in jeans and linen
 Yeah (whew!), make a nigga wanna go fishin'
 And when I walk by, girls singin' a song
 Like E... is like a phemomenon
 Ugh, al around the world they be bumpin' to E
 Shuttin' it down, right in your company
 I blow through like a gust of wind, through doors
 Tearin' down the roof, rippin' the floors
 'Cause rap's no game, I pack heat, ain't afraid to pull it
 For what packs, I packs full of bullets
 Stop when I come through
 Big, Black, motherfucker fresh for '99
 You suckas!
 (Chorus)
 You Ain't Fresh (7x)
 You a busta, nigga
 You Ain't Fresh (7x)
 You a busta, nigga
 (Verse 3 - Kam)
 Kam got get-back
 So get up off my dick, rat
 Nigga, that shit whack
 You want a hit track?
 Where Quik at?
 Knick, knack, patty whack
 I only bone dimes
 How you tight? You don't even write your own rhymes
 It's been a long time
 Since you last heard from me
 Like Bill ass Hillary, "what's up?"
 Still love me, pretty young thang?
 City I'm from bang
 What's up, nigga?
 Real G's don't wear titty and tongue rings
 You's a fruity-o, you make the most excuses
 And keep a studio full of ghost producers
 Young boss heard
 You was tryin' to floss, nerd
 Hollerin' "which side is the realest?"
 Who you steal that from? (Mausberg)
 The street slang thief is your chief employment
 You live a life full of grief after brief enjoyment
 Fake gang bangers, when you see us, tuck all rags
 Adios, buenos dias, fuck y'all fags!
 (Chorus)
 You ain't fresh
 You ain't fresh...









