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hugh e.m.c. - h-nigga groove lyrics

im bout to get with some of here pimp sh-t
so won’t you slow it down my n-gga…

(na man all b-tches are the same.)
(i keep em, i keep em, i keep em broke)
(when i get a b-tch, i got a b-tch)
(right on)
(i do mine some frisco thing)

steppin back on the scene hittin hard like a hurricane
i got punks running from a n-gga insane
they say im mad much madder than a hatter
you’ll be the baseball and i’ll be the batter
young ?tukes? got the suckas like a ho see
a mac-ten thats my mother f-ckin posse
i stay strapped twenty four seven
i got a bullet for your -ss if you feel like steppin
to the h, to the e, the motherf-ckin’ g
cuz when it come to beef yo i gets busy
cut it up, chop it up, like a butcher
i don’t front, i’m not a perpetrator
i’m much greater than all that bullsh-t
you want to stress it, i guess i got to have it with the street sweeper
this is how i’m steppin’ through… -ss out fool
i never pay the b-tch. (why h)
i’m not the type of n-gga to get p-ssy whipped
why pay a ho if the game is strong
keep a b-tch broke is the theme of the song

(keep a b-tch broke)
(keep a)
(keep a b-tch broke)
(what?)
(keep a b-tch broke)
(keep a)
(keep a)
(keep a b-tch broke)

hoes looking for a n-gga in a benzo
so they can play a sucka like nintendo
but yo, im not going for the gaffle
hop in a skirt and put your -ss on a stroll ho
dumb b-tch i thought you understood
(my pimpin)
(my pimpin)
(my pimpins good)
the go ho straight out of frisco
so let it be known im from the danger zone
there’s a lot of turfs in this sick -ss city
army street, hunters point and the swampy d
portrero hill, v.g. and third street
double rock and the fillmore o.c.p
but a brother like me don’t gang bang
i got alotta gold some say i slang cain
my dope dealin but i must insist
the only dope i deal is my m-th-f-ckin lyrics
punk police tryna sweat me
they think a young brother got a ?beat boomin keys.?
pull me over and disrespect
put rocks on a n-gga, i ain’t goin for it
so i’m ready for the show down
to the north like a roach, im going for the spray down
you got snitches working for the police
i’m putting head to bed with my uzi
you got suckas talking sh-t on the mic
but i wouldn’t give a f-ck they couldin’t beat me in a fist fight
much less in a little gold contest
my jams dope, i think you better rush this
pimp money and go
like ?mack mark wayne? im pimpin the ho
you got suckas on the mic… punk ?plankstas.?
as for me i’m a true blue gangsta
you try to diss, im steppin with the ammo
cuz a sucka. (gota go, gota go)
i’m a young n-gga, coming from the old school
try to play me b-tch you must be a fool
i put a ho in check real quick b-tch
if you want to run your mouth, then run it on my d-ck
and when you finish suckin’
i throw in a rug bust a nut and i’m breakin’
you want to be with the hugh e mc?
well working that mouth is mandatory
i need a girl with a jail ?beef.?
cuz a low budget b-tch couldn’t do nothing for me
i’m young ?tuke? the gangster pimp
hard to the core never been a simp
so let a sucka punk runner f-ck up
i’m rollin on your -ss like a mack truck
when i dip through the turfs you know i’m strapped
and when it’s time to rush a n-gga i’m leading that rat pack
like a drive by, the hughey coming through
so let it be known it’s the h n-ggas groove

hugh e m-th-f-ckin m.c. in the place to be
pimpin, ?handlin? and ?ho handlin?
seven eleven when it comes to gamblin’
droppin ?lugs? like a m-th-f-ck
?hold that b-tch mouths pimpins good?
here to let, all you sucker punks, pay a b-tch
the suckers p-ssy -ss n-ggas, what time it is. and ?ghost?

- hugh e m c lyrics

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