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something's gon' make me smack this bitch - holocaust lyrics

[intro: kurupt]
all you despicable b-tches
it’s kurupt young gotti, man
and i got somethin’ to say to all you
despicable, b-tches, black knights
what ya’ll think about them hoes?
what ya’ll got to say about all these hoes?
b-tch, kurupt young gotti, black knights

[chorus: all (kurupt)]
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(b-tch, make me rich)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(b-tch, you b-tch, you b-tch)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(yeah b-tch, won’t you make me rich?)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(yeah, yeah, b-tch, b-tch)

[crisis]
could it be, i’m p-ssy drunk wit monk, comin’ home at sunrise
wit a reputation of f-ckin’ hoes the first night
plus ya first page came at 12:35
never returned a call, so duplicate ’bout 30 times
so now you talkin’ loud, actin’ wild, showin’ out
hoppin’ all in my face, talkin’ bout it’s goin’ down
you got the game f-cked up, you better slow it down
or catch an open palm, you better get it calm
i don’t know what you been smokin’ or sippin’ on
that got you trippin’ on, a n-gga, but you flippin’ on
a n-gga at the wrong time, cuz i ain’t on one, i’m on nine
shots of henny straight, no rocks, look i know it’s your spot
but i ain’t in no mood for att-tude, b-tch, where’s ya grat-tude?

[doc doom]
trick, i’m tired of you always flippin’ the script
every time a n-gga out, you think i’m trickin’ my d-ck?
i kick ya -ss if catch you keyin’ my whip
trick, i’m not of the n-ggas that you used to f-ck wit
like the n-gga reese you burned wit a pot of hot grease
while he was ‘sleep, you would of been dead if that was me
that’s on the black knights gang, it ain’t a small time thang
i got a wife at the tilt, you just my part time game

[chorus: all (kurupt)]
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(yeah b-tch, b-tch, make me rich)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(i’m quick to tell a b-tch to eat up a d-ck)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(i’ll slap the sh-t outta goofy -ss b-tch)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(a goofy, stupid, groupie, b-tch)

[monk]
it gotta be, she always stirrin’ up an att-tude for nothin’
frontin’ like she mad and sh-t, on some stupid sh-t
i hear the hot sh-t, pump ya brakes, i’m not in the mood
relax b-tch, you trippin’, losin’ ya cool
for the price of an argument, to f-ck up my high
f-ck up my day, it ain’t goin’ down that way
cuz something’s gon’ make me smack yo -ss (b-tch!)
mad cuz our splashed don’t trick cash
don’t give a f-ck, roll wit my n-ggas, bar mitzvah sl-t
phones stay off the hook, now ya -ss is fed up
disrespect my cl!ck like we don’t keep it crunk
stay in ya place and keep ya -ss outta my shoes
hit the road b-tch, if you can’t follow the rules, so what you choose?

[crisis]
it might be the p.m.s., it might be the alcohol
it might be the fact that the black knights about to ball

[all (kurupt)]
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(b-tch, b-tch, make me rich)

[monk]
it could be the naggin’, it could be the braggin’
it could be the fact she hatin’, cuz the nights splashin’

[all (kurupt)]
something’s gon’ make smack this b-tch
(there b-tch, you gots to skitz kadaf, it)

[doc doom]
you short on chips, runnin’ her lips
don’t wanna share the p-ssy wit the rest of the cl!ck, but

[all (kurupt)]
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(yeah i know that b-tch, that b-tch ain’t sh-t)

[s. man]
i f-ck hoes for the squirtin’ any season
african, korean, european, polynesian
no further reason to lessen my capacity
from the scr-t-m, cuz the nut gush it gradually
i’m s-man, tastefully delicious
spittin’ my game, gracefully, the b-tches
i meant to step, the ladies pimp, the don peter
380, concealin’ ‘gnac, p-ssy beater
b-tch bring a heater if it’s cold outside (bi-atch!)
you better walk if i want at to ride (bi-atch!)
fly like a bird if you wanna be free
cuz i hate hoes, and hoes hate me
lately, i’ve been watchin’ you, watchin’ me
ain’t no stoppin’ me, from gettin’ this p-ssy for free
cuz p-ssy’s made to be poked, don’t be afraid of the stroke

[warcloud]
now i’m big warcloud from the l.a. streets
swing a timepiece, last name: concrete
i crack a crystal coconut, cruisin’ wit a silly b-tch
smellin’ like cigarette, high, we drove by
apple martini’s and tic tac, forget that
she’s wearin’ so much make-up, if i slap her, her face will shatter
riffraff fiddle sticks, huck finn the lawyer
i make her paint the fence like her name was tom sawyer
dirty, beggy thatcher, i’m great like joe dimaggio
i used to write books by a soda pop and the cosby show
i push a girl down real hard and watch him laugh
his smile so twisted the world will feel the draft
young, and the rocky just shootin’ at tin cans
goofy b-tch said something that made me mad (b-tch!)
gray jackrabbit, black boxing gloves, so love
i smack you like a toucan, swattin’ a turtle dove (goofy b-tch)

[chorus: all (kurupt)]
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(yeah, i’mma end up puttin’ somethin’ in this b-tch right here)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(oh man you see that b-tch over there)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(say b-tch, don’t you owe me some bread)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(yeah, b-tch, b-tch, b-tch, b-tch, give me some head)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(i ain’t got money for you, n-gga)
something’s gon’ make me smack this b-tch
(b-tch, shut up, shut up, b-tch)

[outro: kurupt]
i know you b-tch, you ain’t nothin’, ain’t never been nothin’
if you was a quarter, b-tch, you already broken down to a penny
you b-tch, yeah, yeah, now go out there and get by bread
‘for i slap the wig off of ya

- holocaust lyrics

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