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letra de you betta ask somebody - esham

detroit city!
this is for all them big money makin n-gg-z in detroit.
i know ya’ ridin high boy, i know ya’ ridin high.
i might skate through my city 500 dry, just gotta fresh fade from the barber shop.
gonna pick up my n-gg- we gonna hit the strip, got the 3-5-7 just incase we trip.
might get a lil’ drunk might smoke some weed, and f-ck with some hoes that’s all we need.
i’ma’ real -ss n-gg- that neva’ fake, if you feel like me n-gg- pump yo’ break.
see i made this sh-t fo’ them n-gg-z who roll, like tony montana out control.
from the d-e-r-t-r-o-i-t can’t no n-gg- out there f-ck wit’ me.
i’m gettin (mailed?) f-ck a jail cell, post bail, esham gettin paid who you gonna tell.
wit’ cho’ punk -ss! i blast! any m-th-f-cka runnin’ up in the ski mask.
never out done only out doin’, t-tty bar b-tches is the hoes i’m screwin’.
why? cause all my n-gg-z did they addicted ta’ sellin yayo and yellin’ hey hoe.
if you don’t know i think you better go axe somebody bout’ a real n-gg- hoe yo!
chours:
b-tch! you betta axe somebody! (b-tch you betta’ axe somebody)
cause i don’t just talk! (i don’t just talk baby, that’s right)
(repeat)
i don’t just talk when it comes to makin’ my (snouts?)
cause i wuz slangin’ rocks way before all them rappers.
on the coner sellin dimes, f-ck the ryhmes young n-gg- came up through them hard times.
i’ma’ seven mile ride, beers glidin big bluntin’ ain’t no picture in if ya’ frame.
the fall of the best friends robbey and i, now n-gg-z in my city like do or die.
all i do is smoke weed and f-ck these hoes, have em’ waitin by the phone hopin they get chose.
all you punk -ss n-gg-s be player hatin’.
cause i’m makin this money strait regulatin’.
and you be i’ll legit all counterfeit.
ain’t about no buisnes you all about bullsh-t.
get yo’ sh-t together, stop ridin’ on the next n-gg-z d-ck and lovin these tricks.
it all started as a toddler, .45 bullet swallower to the foot step follower.
slang’ an oz. n-gg-z wanna’ know me b-tches wanna know my bidness cause ya’ nosey.
i’m thinkin how can i come up on the 8 feet, i never let the money get chance to get away from me.
street polaticin’, hood rat d-ck stickin, call me cernal sanders cause i got the fried chicken.
ill life wicked ways make me real trife, i bring the thought up it’s all about “reel life”
chours
b-tch! you betta axe somebody! (b-tch you betta’ axe somebody)
cause i don’t just talk! (i don’t just talk baby, that’s right)
(repeat)
female voice: you better ask somebody, if you talk.
(repeat 4x)

- esham

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