Pitch In On A Party

DJ Quik

Composed by: DJ Quik
[DJ Quik Talking] 
Momma 
I know you said that you wanted a record you could listen to 
With no cussing and shit 
I tried 
But I still gotta do this 

[Verse 1] 
Yo 
Jingle jingle 
We've go the lingo 
With so much heat it's hard for us to pick the first single 
It don't matter cuz I'm underground anyway 
Rich balling, bitch call and fly any day 
You dirty niggas y'all too whack to dance 
Y'all need to ease up off that now before y'all splint y'all pants 
And leave that up to my niggas, young fly niggas 
Getting down you and I niggas dont try niggas 
I changed my mind I don't want your bitch 
Cuz sorry ass women just don't get rich 
You could keep her 
I'd rather have a fifi bag because it's cheaper 
You can't come up for NL 
I gets deeper 
And my hold is so cold, it's a sleeper 
So pass the reafer 
And to you false balling niggas just grab your crotches 
But if you paid nigga pat your pockets 

[Hook] 
And for sure 
You've got yours 
I've got mine's and we're balling 
So call up everybody 
Let's pitch in ona party for sure 
[x2] 

[Verse 2] 
Alright 
Somebody play the potato 
Let's take a ballad 
On who gonna invite the hoes that make the party valid 
Cuz we don't need a whole crib full of dudes again 
And here come the police with them big black boots again 
Kicking niggas out 
Hand cuffing and stuffing they banging jacky chicken in they mouth 
And time to shine pitching a fit 
Cuz somebody rolled her bud in a heeny blunt and won't pass the shit 
Who keeps turning the lights on? 
Why the music keep skipping? 
And why these dirty khaki niggas tripping? 
I don't know I'm Quik and I'm still delighted 
500 dollars worth of white star 
About to hide it 
Cuz y'all ain't drinking mine up 
You better drink that anj and palmason and the rest of that wine up 
You party haters need to stop it 
I think we really about to pat your pockets 

[Hook] 
[x2] 

[Verse 3] 
Hey baby 
My girlfriend left me today 
So which one of you old ragedy ass bitches wanna come in here and play? 
That's what my homie told and try to cop the cancun 
Then I caught him in there hunching in my downstairs bathroom 
And in the kitchen and up in there on the dancefloor 
By the big screen t.v. where your pants go? 
Some of you niggas I swear 
I try to throw y'all a ragedy ass party 
And y'all don't even care 
Cigarette burns in my plush 
Empty beer bottles in the brush 
And my bitch acting like a lush 
Boy what else could go wrong? 
Somebody kick the extension cord out 
[Music stops, DJ Quik talking] 
Move! 
Y'all gotta be some of the clumsiest muthafuckas 
[Music starts up again] 
To the sounds, now some 
Y'all done fucked up 
Get out, get on 
Speed up nigga 
Get up, take your weed on 
Ya nigga, the drunk nigga said it 
Your pockets, that's where I'm sending 
K go 

[Hook]
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