Artist: DJ Quik Album: The Book of David Song: Ghetto Rendezvous Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com [Intro] Rendezvous I guess it's time for another Aw, look at what you motherfuckers done went and did Y'all done pissed me off Yeah waddup, sis? I hear you out there! You know you done fucked up.. I'm glad y'all set it off [DJ Quik] You prob'ly mad cause you can't eat off me no mo' Don't wanna hear you cryin or offer you no dough ..You tried to make my life shabby with the Zodiac sign of the Cancer, you crabby Heh-heh, plus you got away with murder twice NICE -- just like that nigga that's on thin ice now (I think it's time for another ghetto ren-dez-vous) I hate you so much, it just shows I hate you more than Michael hated Joe And your son looks like a fuckin Al-Qaeda I'ma call him Wop Daddy cause his chin is to the side, yo.. Now that's the mark of the beast You had a Damien in 1977 to say the least Your house is full of mold, body full of yeast I bet you bakin a loaf of bread down between your cheeks You stanky lil' rodent, yeah bitch you're molded You'll NEVER see your brother, that's why your lungs corroded Emphysema all in 'em You cain't hurt nobody, ain't no toxins in your venom You're just a grandmomma in denim Lookin for some little kids to put soem shit up in 'em (Maybe it's time for another ghetto ren-dez-vous) The problem is you ain't had no fuckin loyalty And the only thing you wanted was my royalties You stole a car AND a bike from me Lookin back, I was the caretaker of a dummy And that husband of yours, you dumb witch Was still a husband of hers, you stupid bitch You never acted your age You only came to embarrass me out in public for days That's why a little clarity pays You got the boot, now I'm chippin like Frito-Lays Rest in peace to my niece, at least when she was lyin in state, she had a grin to her mouthpiece Now what that tell you about you? You disturbed to the curb and it's better without you (I'm comin strapped to another ghetto ren-dez-vous) Fat boy, you know you really been dumbin Goin over Pee-Wee house showin off your triple stomach ...with a strap in your waist Now what you gon' do when you see my face? I doubt it I'm tired of playin with you cocka-roaches I gave you bitches life trust and you stupids broke it Cause you a motherfuckin sex offender Put some honey on your dick and put it in a blender They caught you fuckin on your sister's daughter That some incestual shit, get the holy water Compton Alumni, a no go Nigga you really from Paso Robles Upstate in Y.A. with your homeboys Cheeking each other butts making no noise (I'm takin off when I hit the ghetto ren-dez-vous) If I bought you equipment and you sold it, that's on you Help you get into a home and you lose it, that's on you You niggaz actin like babies You feel entitled to another man's money, that's crazy More like insane, schizophrenia Struggles with love and money, happiness you get plenty of While I'm stayin fly, like LaGuardia I'm a guardian, I'm the auditor I'm the flyiest emcee you've ever heard on a Norman microphone, motherfucker that's word Now gimme the mic and let me be heard Cause I'll be quittin shortly, I am the shep-herd Now what you know about my lyrics and style? I got a Cleco backwash fly spit, we wild (I think it's time for another ghetto ren-dez-vous)