Problem – Do Yo Gudda lyrics

Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Go from your head to your waist
Go from your head to your waist
Do yo gudda
Like you holdin’ two straps
Then throwing on your ski mask
Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda
D-do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda
Like you holdin’ two straps
Then throwing on your ski mask
Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
D-do yo gudda

First off, R.I.P fo’
Compton California in case you didn't know
All up on derm with a pretty white ho
Made it out the hood but I’m still psycho
Kid wanna play better call Tyco
Money always right nigga, no typo
Stay high in the sky like my next flight go
Do my thug, one glove, I’m the next Michael yeah
Gudda, gudda, go bad on ‘em
Synchronize the surprise, have ‘em land on ‘em
Back when ? had the cut in ‘88, no fake
Shot the L little Doug and baby eight

Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Go from your head to your waist
Go from your head to your waist
Do yo gudda
Like you holdin’ two straps
Then throwing on your ski mask
Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda
D-do yo gudda

(Get it J3) Straps I keep to
They want an explanation, but pigs, I don’t speak to
Nuclear bombs, we’re making the most noise
Boys in the hood, I’mma do ‘em like dope boys
Go, here comes the sirens
Block is hot as the irons
Swerving on Avalon, I’m reppin’ the deuce like Bobby Johnson
Glocks shoot ‘em like murder
Got both of ‘em like Kirk
Come deep like we on some buckets
Ride through with no interruptions
From your head to your waist, they do it in every city
With my Chucks and my Dickies I’m ? Like I’m Diddy
Aim for his head like the murderers is Cortez
Not only a dance it’s your regular program

Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Go from your head to your waist
Go from your head to your waist
Do yo gudda
Like you holdin’ two straps
Then throwing on your ski mask
Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda
D-do yo gudda

I’mma do my gudda like it’s my bread and butter
Hit my nigga, on my cell, oh little L that’s my brother
Tell me that I’m female when I fuck with the K-Dot
Eat it up, then beat it up, my MO baby, may I?
Two times, I do mines, I knew mines, I do fine
I keep bread and croutons, we bust ass then move on
What’s happenin’? I’m bagging through a bitch again richer
Bought some toys for the kids, bought a chopper for my nigga, yup
And I’m jiggin’ in the functions
I throw my arms up with my index finger pumpin’
A brand new dance coming straight up out of Compton
Little K-Dot from the A-block and I’m Rosecrans thuggin’ huh

Ay, that's how I sound when I get off
Tree top Bompton, hold on let me get my shit off
Strapped, hope I don’t get caught
Hold up, let me shit talk
The 745 and Rosecrans had them pissed off
My gudda keep a slug and a clip that holds numbers
‘cause I be in the Porsche riding through the bity all summer
Ducking from the under covers on my second look
Still in the streets now ? Half you muthafuckas ay
Fronting with the Chuck T’s
This my creed, this my steez nigga on key

Ninth grade at Paramount High I was fucking edgy
Socking out any motherfucker that couldn’t stand me I did my gudda

Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Go from your head to your waist
Go from your head to your waist
Do yo gudda
Like you holdin’ two straps
Then throwing on your ski mask
Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda
D-do yo gudda

You can love it or can hate
But I got it just in case
Grab and pull 'em off your waist
Like you aiming for his face
Like you aiming for his face

You can love it or can hate
But I got it just in case
Grab and pull 'em off your waist
Like you aiming for his face
Like you aiming for his face

Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Do yo gudda, do yo gudda
Go from your head to your waist
Go from your head to your waist
Do yo gudda
Like you holdin’ two straps
Then throwing on your ski mask
Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda
D-do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda