Made You Shit Your Pants - The Weathermen, Cage, Copywrite

You can go fuck yourself if you don’t feel it

All it took is liquor, marijuana, six strippers in a sauna

Pen and pad, now I got buzz quicker than Nirvana

First, you non-violent, now you in your verse wildin'?

Your only criminal record is BDP’s first album

Cop purple haze and be the first to blaze

When cops roll up everybody in my circle stays

Fuck your baby mama on Mother’s Day

Dump my blunt ashes in that bitch’s purse

When she turn her head the other way

I’m foul, and don’t give a shit what a motherfucka say

Live it up till each minutes up we might not get another day

In a truck, tinted up, yeah It’s rented but

This chick won’t know that, till after she licks my bozack!!!

Get my Prozac, I’m like Tony Soprano

The way I kill Big Pussy and my bitch don’t know that

They shootin'!

Aww, made you shit your pants

Better call your bitch, forget your mans

Stickin' his honey, playboy she mine now

Where my Weathermen at?

Follow the dime cloud

They shootin'!

Aww, made you shit your pants

Better call your bitch, forget your mans

Stickin' his honey, playboy she mine now

Where my Weathermen at?

Follow the dime cloud

First name Yakko, what you know about Yak though?

Weathermen, prime specimen with my pants low

See this is where the barkin' stops

And my dogs need to show, walkin' my shit to the parkin' lot

Whoa, they shootin' aww, we made it hot, fuck it

But we encouragin' sprayin' the cops

Trust me dog you don’t want no bad blood between us

I’m movin' up you still play the back of the club

I’m ballin, you pourin' you starvin' like orphans, you punks

We warrin', you fallin' and sleepin' in coffins, you front

I change your fate ain’t nuthin' changed that my claim

Hittin' stars like it ain’t a thang

We ghetto entrepreneurs, rap connoisseurs

Who like our weed with crystals in it and our women on all fours

So let the truth be told, haters can hate me now

But save the drama for a movie role

Police shootin'!

Aww we made it hot

They got the bomb squad, and raidin' with SWAT

Don’t make a motherfucka break your locks, playa

Right where the robbery’s at;

scene of the crime’s at

They shootin'!

Aww we made it hot

They got the bomb squad, and raidin' with SWAT

Don’t make a motherfucka break your locks, playa

Right where the robbery’s at;

scene of the crime’s at

P. S.K.

playin' I’m saying neurotic shit

Y’all look to the clouds, asked for the Weather and got it

Whether I’m potted or blotted out of this orbit, absorb shit

Cause only five percent don’t really want to be corporate!

Most of y’all favorite artists made y’all slaves to garbage

The influence’ll drop, they rape the carcass

Then it’s off to the livin' for cannibalism, no kidding

Cause rap is dying and they ain’t make no ribbon

I’m thinkin' of the stress, and the air I breathe through

Drugs don’t fund terrorists, SUV’s do!

But y’all don’t want me to point it out I’m assuming

Just remember to turn on and tune out, after you tune in!