Ask Yourself a Question Lyrics
The song Ask Yourself a Question is performed by Kurupt .
Send Ask Yourself a Question Ringtone to your Cell
Kurupt:
Check it out
Here's a penny for your thoughts, a nicklebag of bliss
An m-16 with eighteen clips
I'm all set to bust, treacherous
Illustrious, homie don't question us
Just ask yourself the question
How many hoes can I f**k in one night?
Just ask yourself the question, nigga
How many niggaz can I blast on sight?
I'm ferocious, and you knows this nigga
Bitches wear skirts, shake a*s and bump
I pop pistols, that's all I do
I pop one at him and pop two at you
I'm illusive, i'ma glock it
Pistol popping activist with the key to the bucket
I rip your pockets of the side of your pants
You glare to the side and you glance, I'm in my (? ? ? )
How the f**k you make it this far?
No matter where you at, or who you are
People treat me like kareem abdul jabbar
I hear ooh's and aah's when I jumps in my car
Just from last night you can tell
That I'm addicted to the fast life
Shouts out to my homeboys mad and quell
You go on and f**k misty, while I f**k michelle
Chorus:
Just ask yourself the question
How many hoes can I f**k in one night?
Just ask yourself the question
How many niggaz can I blast on sight?
Just ask yourself the question
Is it cool to ride, or is it cool to f**k?
Just ask yourself the question
I don't know why these motherf**kers wanna f**k with us
What you wanna do, penetrate me?
Bump my crib? bust and f**k my bitch, nigga?
I never thought a nigga would trip
Off a little piece of a*s that he know he could get
Any day (any day) and any time (any time)
You'se a vegetarian (what? ), I like beef, turkey and pork
Fish and chips, chips and dip
f**k it, hand me my knife and my fork
I'm not too picky nigga, kurupt young gotti
A.k.a. low ricky nigga (what up momma? )
Substantialar, tyrannosaurus, gigantic titanic tarantula.
On a creep homie, wake up
Don't sleep homie, supposed to know it
Look, I'm hazardous to health, nigga, bitch, nigga
Don't ask me shit 'till you ask yourself
Chorus (dre)
Dre:
What the f**k is up? man life's a bitch
You gotta put your pistol to the sky,
Kill a million motherf**kers and get high in order to be cool
Man, you'se a motherf**king fool (speak to these niggaz)
I thought the same way, back in the days
Young, with a lack on daily things
Never thought too much, homie, never trip
I got drunk as f**k, the homies blaze sticks
Look out for them niggaz out to get you
So (? ? ? ) forgetting to tank your pistol with you (your pistol nigga)
Niggaz get swallowed in the game
I cock and bust hollows to peer, duck and frame
Yo nigga, that shit sounds like I did it
Don't blaze the (? ? ? ) without the (? ? ? )
Niggaz look like they're doped up like tired bitches
With the eyes wide gone you spit the hard boom
Wiping shit the f**k out like typhoons
With the little homeboys, t-bone and cartoons
Motherf**ker don't ask me for shit
f**k everything you believe in, little bitch
Chorus
Kurupt:
What, what?