pus*y Ass Kid and Hoe Ass Play (Payback Is A Mutha f*cker) lyrics

[Intro: Luke]
Yo, it's a f*cked-up thing!
I gotta bring Kid N' Play on this motherf*ckin' album here
Two pus*y punk-ass n*ggas
Yo, check this out, what I'mma do
Is I'mma go get last year's rookie of the year
JT Money of Poison Clan
This year's rookie of the year, Bustdown
Yo, Bustdown, kick some of that West Bank sh*t on these f*ck n*ggas!

[Verse 1: Bustdown]
Well, I'm first up as a rhyme conveyor
Luke Records in the house for the payback, player
Kid N' Play can suck a di*k
Get me a mic and a 40 and let a real n*gga wreck sh*t
To me you're walking on a tightrope
Instead of tryin' to be real, you're steady sweatin' them white folks
Keep runnin' your big mouth
But if you come to my hood, you'll get your as*h*le ripped out
Then I'mma play you to the back seat
Cause I'm runnin' more game than a track meet athlete
As if you didn't know, huh
You're dealing with a West Bank di*ksman, ho
But anyway, I got a rhyme to deliver
Get your draws out your ass, quit frontin', my n*gga
Cause if you don't, well you'll keep gettin dissed on
And if I see you at a show and you're slippin'
You're gettin' p*ssed on
[Chorus]
What about Kid N' Play?
(Wick-wick-wack!)

[Verse 2: JT Money]
Now for starters, with kids I don't play
Cause y'all some f*ck-ass, punk-ass, coochie n*ggas anyway
JT I the house, n*ggas, check it
Tryin' to diss my n*gga Luke to sell your wack record
Let me talk about the Kid
I remember some ol' coochie-n*gga sh*t you did
When we was up in New York
You was followin' Luke, talkin' 'bout "We gotta talk"
On that man's di*k
Got your ass wide open and you're talkin' that bullsh*t
Both movies, I boo 'em
Cause you had hoes but you wasn't stickin' pipe to 'em
Thought they was fantastic
But through the whole f*ckin' movie, Kid was gettin' his ass kicked
And 'bout that other n*gga Play
He needs to get dissed cause he's a punk n*gga anyway
Be 'round here kissin' hoes, while I'm dissin' hoes
And stabbin 'em with fishin' poles
You need to try to lay pipe in 'em
Oh, I forgot - punks don't like women
Got the nerve to try and diss somebody
At Jack the Rapper, you was hangin' 'round Luke's party
Now you're outta gas
With two motherf*ckin' punk-haters on yo' ass
JT and Bustdown
Now let's see you ho n*ggas get tough now
Get the rubbers out your ass, di*k-suckers
And f*ck them pus*y motherf*ckers
[Chorus]
What about Kid N' Play?
(Wick-wick-wack!)

[Verse 3: Bustdown]
Now let me put my boy Kid in his place
With them wick-wack rhymes soundin' like Rob Base
Cause if I have to come tag that ass
I'mma max, wax, tax and drag that ass
I get sharp like a ice pick
I'm on a hype tip, hold the mic tight as a vice grip
You couldn't deal with the concept
I'm collected and calm, but on the mike I'm a bomb threat
So motherf*ckers get real
I got a heart like gold and a di*k like steel
You wanna diss, punk? Please
You got a flat top thicker than commodity cheese
Luke left it up to me and JT
To take it from the bottom to the T-O-P
I saw your second "House Party," it figures:
Two house parties for two house-ass n*ggas

[Outro: Luke]
Two house motherf*ckin' n*ggas
Do y'all n*ggas know what a house n*gga is?
A house n*gga is a n*gga who works in the house
Who cleans the master's ass, who cleans behind the master
Who wash the master's ass
Y'all house n*ggas. I'm a field n*ggas
We field n*ggas here in Miami
That's why y'all n*ggas can't understand us
Y'all f*ck-n*ggas talkin' too much sh*t
Y'all n*ggas better watch what you sayin'
'Cause y'all f*ck n*ggas, y'all don't know
Y'all get f*cked up here. Yo, check this out
Miami is closed to y'all n*ggas. Y'all barred
Y'all can't come here no more, f*ck-n*ggas
Y'all can't sell no more records here
And if all real n*ggas in the world is real like us
Y'all don't buy them f*ck-n*ggas' sh*t no more
Cause they ain't sh*t, pus*y punk, f*ck n*ggas