Now let's get down to business, [bad word] 'Cause it seems like y'all just

Now let's get down to business, [bad word] 'Cause it seems like y'all just keep on tryin' to diss this [bad word] that you know that's been down for years
I've clowned for years, and y'all could never fade my peers
One two three four five six seven nine, ten, Eiht you can't win
'Cause all the way around [bad word] I gets respect
And youse a [bad word] that can't even get no props in your set
Tragniew Park you say huh

Wanna be rippin', but now it's time to do some set trippin'
So listen close, 'cause I don't want y'all to miss
That I'm bout to break it down for this [bad word]  check it
Acacia, Poplar Maple Spruce Cedar Elm
West side trees sprayin' all the fleas
that's from the three and four hundred block P-Funk riders
So niggaz watch yo' a*s at that center divider
Now Aaron Tyler, tell my why you seem so tame

When I caught you at the airport, shakin' like a [bad word] game
You looked up and you seen my niggaz comin
And you looked like your [bad word] a*s was 'bout to start runnin'
But all I wanted to do was kick a little conversation
And see if we can fix this little situation
But would I f**k you up was what you wondered
Yeah, that's probably why you changed your little pager number
But [bad word] like you don't grow

You can't even look me in my eye, let alone go toe to toe
And callin' me skinny, youse a clown
I'ma call you Theo, 'cause you weigh ninety-two point three pounds
Wack a*s actor, movie script killer
Fool don't you know, Quik is still the [bad word] Compton psycho, boy you oughta quit
Your records don't hit, and [bad word] don't jock your [bad word] You need to stay down you Compton clown

And get off of the nuts of the niggaz with guts
Because I'm down with the Trees, I'm down with Death Row
I'm down with Black Tone, and I'm down with the fo'
So when we cross paths and I hope that's soon
I'ma boot your motherf**kin' a*s to the moon
You need to quit bangin' under false pretense
'Cause if don't make dollars, it don't make sense

If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the people, commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince

Now I'ma swing it to the right and, right into the left hand
Take a deep breath and, cook it like a chef and
This is dedicated to the C-P-T
No better yet T-T-P, or the niggaz that look up to me
I make it my business, to be that true forever
And whenever I can come clever well that's my endeavor
So whether or not you understand, that there's only one DJ Q-U-I-K
With no still you can't be me
Because I'm floatin' in my Lex and, depositin' fat checks and
Gettin mad  while I floss the NSX and

Doin' what I wanna, and youse a goner [bad word] For thinkin that you can catch me slippin' on a street corner
Remember Compton's in the house, and Quik is in the hood
Sippin' yak with all my niggaz 'cause it's tooted good
So don't knock it till you try it, 'cause Eiht he tried to knock it
But he's still walkin' round with my nuts in his pocket
So put tha P in it represent and sip that Miller
And for those of y'all concerned, this is still Eiht Killa
Let me take a load off my [bad word] little pest
If it don't make dollars [bad word]  you know the rest

If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the people, commence
If