Babyface – How Bout Dat Hardcore? lyrics

[Intro: Kendra (Babyface Fensta)]
Do you have any Henny? (Thug Passion, Alize with that)

[Kendra]
Living in this live shit, bullets ain't hitting me
The trilogy, panics of Gods, moving religiously
Shady cats bring smoke, black clouds hole
Fountains that's smooth, we burn households
So pass those, sleeping on K, spitting shade large
Laced in Victoria Secret, angel bras
Face off, face hard, Brooklyn stay's hard
Til I beat them by folding the ropes, spent at K-Mart
What I look like? A groupie ho? Dominate in videos
Cherchez niggas in they videos
Who can thought and seem too, the holy fields
Brothers smoking with they no ideal, for real
Verbal in my potency, measured by a nick and dime
Heavier than crab weights, stale kicks and rhymes
Spitting life lines, longer than infinity
A spirit type goddess, worshipped in ya trinity
Fake niggas want me to blaze tracks, and stage cats
Front on mine, losing a DATs and play backs
Come in threes, when I'm feeling tipsy
Speaking on hoes, like wifey on Lionel Richie
It's killing me, do a lie just to dick me
Like third world's hoes tricking skins from the Indies

[Babyface Fensta]
I spit hits like clips, rings and gangsta flicks
Like The Killer, ya'll niggas suck like chicks in porno flicks
Give it to ya raw, with trivia, ya'll niggas get robbed for ya ice
And pay to get it back, roll the dice, gamble wit ya life, kiss my hand, baby
I'm holy like the cross, my Basic Instruction, Before Leaving Earth
Puffed the bone, fucked a virgin, on a house, I whip a business
Above all else, know thy self, Arm Leg-A-Leg, Arm Head
Spread like mattresses, I got dick for you actresses
Dick for you female rappers and singers
Dig in, see my kingdom, let freedom ring, by any means, necessary

[Chorus 2X: Kendra (Babyface Fensta)]
Aiyo, thugs from street (How about the hardcore
Let us get a piece of that) I like it real raw
Niggas wanna front (We can go to war
Get loose at the store, let loose, less is more)

[Babyface Fensta]
I attack tracks like a virus, ain't no cure for this
Though tricks might seem real, they deal is this
Crackers, don't give a fuck about us
Lie, cheat, steal, murder, rape, nothing escapes
Male devilish grasp, advocates kick a four-fifth
If you can dodge a bullet, you a bad muthafucka
Niggas looking for props, you won't score, points off me
Amateur, professional, veteran, icey hot
I got the medicine, I'm hospital', to my vowels
My power's clientele, my dimes is bigger
Head crack, I got the come back, dope for ya track
Peep you nodding, overdose, fighters comatose
At the round table, we toast, break bread
Dine on fish, prepare an exotic, exquisite dish

[Kendra]
Aiyo, they saw her coming, head on collision, raw busting
The aftermath is true on this bitch, George Rusty
It started with the nigga from Queens, living a dream
Playing my rhymes, to hear schemes to get cream
Hip hop be my nigga, like my figures on niggas bitches
And snitches, be the bitches niggas ditch for they riches
Laying down a snack that feed the noise in the rear
Beat punks at open mics, when we enjoy it there
See the war done started, leaving me beat-less
Praying to Jesus, I treat sperm like weed and make it seedless
To Regis, throw me the question to break a million
Don't let boy teach two MC's and save the children

[Chorus 2X: Babyface Fensta (Kendra)]