a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

2pac – what’z ya phone # lyrics


what’z ya phone number
now i could make miracles with pimp hoes.
it’s instrumental.
waitin for the nyphos.
that’s the intro.
shook when ya rush me.
walked up and touched me.
why? do you want to f-ck me?
just cuz i’m paid in the worst way? true.
lookin kind a good in your birthday suit.
i wonder if your wild and ya act shy.
do you like to be on top or the back side?
watch me while you lick your lips, shake your hips.
godd-mn, i love that sh-t.
yo, let’s stop fakin and be real now.
i got a room and a hard on. still down?
met ya standin at a bar full of black dudes.
said ya wanna see my scars and my tatooes.
when we head for my hideout, act right.
boss playa when i ride out, that’s right.
what’z ya phone number?

if you really wanna f-ck with me, i’m ready.
baby, let me give you a call.
how long will it take to break you off?
(repeat once more)

oh sh-t, baby is a dime piece.
wanted this fine seat.
personally rushed [???]
if i see ya right.
now she can get me hard
didn’t wanna talk to me, till she see my car.
never had s-x with a rich rap star
till i got her in the back of my homeboy’s car.
tell me, why do we live this way?
money over b-tches.
let me hear you say:
what’z your phone number?
are you alone?
got a pocket full of rubbers, let’s bone.
time for your girlfriend to take you home.
i had fun,
but baby, gotta leave me alone.
picture in my rhyme.
take time to rewind these ordinary words i say.
if you open your mind,
bet in a minute you’ll find it’s time.
let the outlaws play.
what’z ya phone number.

chorus repeats 2x

(girl and tupac conversation)
2:h-llo? who is this?
g:is this tupac?
2:this is who?
g:is this tupac?
2:yeah, it’s tupac. who this?
g:hi baby. how are you?
2:i’m aiight. what’z up baby?
g:you don’t recognize the voice?
2:you recognize my voice, huh?
g::do you recognize my voice?
2:nah, i know you?
g:yeah, you know me. i guess you don’t recognize me when i’m talkin.
2:where i know you from? where i know you from?
g:you just know me, baby.
2:where? talk up i can’t barely hear you.
g:you know me from when we were, you know, intimate.
2:ooh, we f-cked?
g:oh baby, did we ever.
2:oh, tell me about it baby.
g:i remember when i put that big d-ck in my hand and
stroked it up and down.
g:then i put it in my mouth. i f-cked it.
2:ooh, you did.
g:ooh, i did.
g:f-cked it and f-cked it. put me in. you came.
2:did i come?
g:ooh, baby: everywhere, everywhere. you don’t remember me yet?
2:i’m starting to get a picture. why don’t you help me out.
what did i do to the p-ssy? what a n-gg- do to the p-ssy?
g:you rocked it.
2:di did?
g:yeah, you did.
2:did i do some of that thug p-ssion?
2:heh, heh. eh, so what cha doin right now, though?
g:me and my finger are gettin aquainted.
2:how many you got?
g:i got ten. but only one is workin.
2:oh, well can i come over there?
g:if you want to.
2:do i want to? do a bear sh-t in the woods and
wipe his -ss with a rabbit.
g:mmm. you gon rock it baby?
2:h-ll yeah, i’m gon rock it baby.
g:like you did before?
2:no doubt. you gon feel that thug p-ssion for real.
g:mmmm, baby.
2:i’m on my way though. i’m about to fly over there in a 500.
it ain’t gon take but a minute. eh, light the candles.
get the baby oil out. turn all the lights out. drink a little
bit of that sh-t. i’m on my way babe. i’m gon knock that p-ssy
to the next week.
g:knock it out, baby, knock it out.
2:i’m gon knock the taste out yo mouth, girl. i’m gon put your legs on
your head. i’m a tie you up, blindfold you. and we gon play which hole
feel the best.
g:you know which hole feel the best.
2:we fin to see tonight, though.
g:i’m gon make you remember me.
2:oh, yeah.
2:oh yeah, you got my d-ck hard. i can’t find the steering shift you got me
so f-cked up. i’m playin with myself and sh-t.
g:can i shift your gear? < diiz girl iz a huge sl-t prost-tute btw i fknn lovve tupac sxxxx my gangstaaahh sxccii fkn luv uuu writer: nelson, prince rogers / shakur, tupac amaru / jackson, johnny lee lyrics © universal music publishing group