What Goes On - Heather b

Yeah*

This one goes out to all the true nuccas everywhere

Word up

Big shots to my brother Jetta

Big Mal

I represent all them shorties universal

Word up son

No doubt

Now check it out

It don’t be nobody but that rugged shorty

Fuck a 40 if I can sip Hennessy by the quartie

W-e-e-d spells relief

No dutchie, twist mines in a (?), let’s steam, chief

I goes to the extreme, so proceed me with caution

That dime bag you left me last night, I burned this mornin

So what up, nucca, what be left of yo stash?

I hope you hittin ass better than that blunt you pass

It’s gettin deep, I’m goin farther

But I peeped you puffin ganja, three L’s left you traumin

And what be up with that 'Uh, I’ll spark that tree'?

I hope you ain’t a nucca that’s gon’fold on me, B

I wanna burn with you all night, then get live

Or we can blow up with that Sega, put in that Madden 95

And keep yo conversation short if yo cash is

Don’t promise me lavish gifts and can’t pull through

Yo gear, you gots to be a freshly-dipped nucca

From your Helly Hansen jacket down to the Hilfiger boxers

Word up son

No doubt

Heather B representin for all the shorties out here

What goes on, nucca, what be up

(What goes on, what goes on)

And there’ll be no hand-holdin till the lah gets rolled

Keep yo steelo real so no lies get told

Glassy eyes, my Timbos, they beige and untied

Levi’s with no crease, Colombia hair band circle in my dome piece

Real nuccas love they hood to the fullest, let no man violate

Fatigue-wearin, chest-bearin, gettin cheese out of state

Niggas got the block sewn up

Infiltrators want yo spot blown up

Yo, you hit if you slip, God, jewel piece is shinin

Yo shorty love her diamonds

You stressin just to keep your shorty fly, I’m told

Fools gold you hold, let the snitches and the bitches go

One of them bound to be yo trip up north

Nigga glad to see you hype, shorty promise she gon’write

Funny how fate make a nigga wanna see whole

No snakes in yo pit and no bulls in yo shit

Is the only way respect gon’follow yo name

Nucca, what goes up, nucca, what be up

Word life son

On the real

And when were you when my lights went out

And my moms put me out and I slept on the couch

Check this out, I need no new friends, son

I runs with the nuccas that been down since day one

No gravy train ridin on these tracks

And fuck all them jacks that’s down after the fact

Just me and my wagon cause there’s no draggin

Dickriders along, they won’t miss me when I’m gone

Shorty starin down to my shoelace

You gets the screw face, I heard all yo gossip

Jeru told you you can’t stop a prophet

Now make sure yo topic is up to date

I’m spittin back at those doubters that spit at me

They forgot Heather B would eventually shine

Nucca, what goes up, nucca, what be up

(What goes on, what goes on)