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Harloff Kevin P - Ho lyrics
[Pete Nice]
 Picasso the easel crusty crusty weasel
 I shiggedy-shot, I shiggedy-shot the needle for the measels
 If the record company's a pimp, you're a cheap slut
 Pump the loot illzno, till you bust a big nut
 Flex if you wanna, wanna flex
 If you think you got the wrecks, yo
 We be bustin necks, so
 Daddy, Daddy Rich, Pete, Pete Nice the master
 Father knows best, he knows best, you little bastard
 Will he, will he plug ya and play ya like a fiddle
 Or meddle just a little like the monkey in the middle?
 It's time to fill the donut, but yo, I won't seduce ya
 Word, I whip your ass from the Bronx to Tuscalusa
 The big, big, big beat catcher need a big rat
 Riggedy-rat bastard, can I get a soul clap?
 A-clap, clap on, yo, a-clap, clap off one
 Step to the rear if your material's the soft one
 Yo, you got the drama class
 Yo, you hit the drama fast
 I vic your stash, your flag is wavin half-mast
 Pete Nice, Daddy Rich, the agony defeat
 (Slammed the child on the hard concrete)
 (To the ladies screamin aw
 The brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)
 The riggy-riggin slippin, not Scottie Pippen
 The drippin jheri curls like Steve Miller slippin
 To the future, a moocher named Minnie vicked my ducats
 Schmock as a schmock, I got your girl in a bucket
 The primo, the celo, the 125th street
 Beating up the herbs with the Nikes on my two feet
 My head's up, I'm feds up, I'm fillin you with the dieselHarloff Kevin P - Ho - http://motolyrics.com/harloff-kevin-p/ho-lyrics.html
 If it ain't the legal, the scenario's illegal
 So hey, Mr. Kincaid, when are we gonna get paid?
 Punch you in the ass, sip the forties in the shade
 You see, I'm real like the butts that ain't the silly-silicony
 Homie don't play with the booty if it's bony
 I push the rhymes like the fiendish Dick Dastardly
 What's my fee? 10 g's cash, please
 Hit the pawn shop with the rings, and you're hikin it
 A tree grew in Brooklyn, and Dad Richie chopped it
 If you got beef, get the grill and the charcoal
 Hold it, now hit it now, cause yo, I know you got no (soul)
 (To the ladies screamin aw
 The brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)
 Puffin, swigin, friggin-friggin A-1
 Top of the heap, king of the hill, steppin it up to get some
 Now what I know because I freak, I freak the flow
 Hit you with the potent if you wanna, wanna throw
 I'm Peety Weety Wheatstraw, the X watching Hee-Haw
 I see-saw the open sesame is on a trap door
 Peter Piper, picture pocket full of presidents
 New York, New York, a hell of a town, yo, I'm a resident
 If you wanna get me, I'm afraid you better shoot me
 I'll do ya my way - bababui
 Minister the Prime one, a butter like the parkay
 Hey, hey, the Constipated Monkeys on a parlay
 Switchin up the picture like the Doctor Gooden packin heat
 Sweet Daddy Cream it ain't the _Krush Groove_ or _Beat Street_
 Rock, rock the body rock, the truer to the hip-hop
 Drop, drop a jewel, and never singin for the pop
 (To the ladies screamin aw
 The brothers yellin ho) (Repeat 8x)








