Artist: Cam'Ron f/ Hell Rell, Jim Jones, J.R. Writer Album: Killa Season Song: Get 'Em Daddy (Remix) Typed by: Milkman32004@yahoo.com * * send corrections to the typist [Cam'Ron] See the problem is I ain't goin nowhere Can shoot at me, can stab at me Take your best shot (this is the remix) Suck a dick no homo DipSet, remix, let's go! [Hell Rell] My flow is novocaine, my bars is hurricanes (Katrina) I got hell-a cain, mac in the melon range Hop out and shells exchange I wanna see these niggaz die die, make they mom feel hell-a pain Walk around like I got a broom in my pants Na that's a fuckin' A-K, heavy tool in my pants, damn Man these cowards better stay in they lane And if they ain't getting the picture, it ain't in the frame VVS's stay in my chain (bling) they in my ring (There they go) You must of wrote your will already if your sayin our names Hell Rell, Mr. Ruger Ruger, I'm a shooter shooter You hung with the girls you double dutch or hoola-hooper Hop skip and jumpin, block clickin and jumpin Glock clickin and dumpin, it's the mighty [J.R. Writer] Listen I'm quite known, nice chrome, a cyclone niggaz Ya sight blown, Right-o, my white stones glitter Left hand bling, the right one shiver Stallion, medallion, a ice cold picture The white stone flipper That white tone, nights home, getting' rid of the weight like lipo mister This psycho sicker That ain't crackin' ya pimp, you got a rat as a friend like Mike on Thriller This ain't nothing to me, a scrapper at its best No rapper could impress, man I'm crack right out the jets You rappin indirect But it's lookin like a movie shoot How they sendin all these damn actors at the set [Jim Jones] It goes get 'em daddy (Goonies) Soul niggaz they sick and flabby, (they washed up) Young fly rich and every nigga with me pack heat, (we ballin) Somebody snappin pictures at me, (watch me) Plus I know I got the F.B.I. sick of me The cash the jewels and how we buy exquisite V's Don't get ya brains fried to a fricassee My vest and my heater, breath full of reefer And ya boy stay fly like he was dressin for Easter The big Pachorte, Capo the heavy Packin 4-4 court case to drop on expressway Its DipSet Byrdgang we fly high And chart the G-4 we get high in the sky [Cam'Ron] I'm Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage, Bob Backlund Paul Akin, ha ha, who they think they car jackin You dump and a dump, I slumped and I slump They mad my car's like an elephant, the trunk in the front See ya dude react, Hud six threw me back, a few they clapped But I ate those, them shits is Scooby Snacks I ain't see stars, I'm a G pa Threw the Lam' in 6th, Drove to the E.R. Had to make it hot Feel like Pac I know it's set up Them old niggaz know I'm bout to take they spot Ain't no A.B. - I.O.U. Y.B. That'll get 'em up in I.C.U. Like I see you at the BP, shot 'em off G.P. Guns from VA, PA, down to D.C. D.O.A. if you short up on my P.C. C-74 switched 'em over to P.C. Like Chuck D, we the '06 P.E. Fuck me why, I'm in the '06 G.T. All about them G's B, we the B.G. Byrd Gang Dipset, D.I.P. see Like KRS-One, the great B.D.P. You wanna join the crew, then you must see me, flee (Get 'em Daddy) Got 'em mommy, you my Gotham Bonnie Cause I'm Batman with the pump, Johnny Johnny (Get 'em Daddy) Honey smile, don't act funny style In one ear, yeah yeah, 220 thou'