Dj Quik – Pitch In Ona Party lyrics

Hu hu

Momma I know you said you wanted
A record that you could listen to
With no cussing and shit. I
Tried but I still gotta do this.

Jinga jinga we got the linga with
So much heat it's hard for us to
Pick the first singer. It don't
Matter cuz I'm undergroud anyways
. Rich, bald, bitch called and fly
Anyways. You dirty niggaz yall
Too wack to dance. Yall need to
Ease off that dance before yall
Split yall's pant. Leave it up
To my young niggaz, young fly
Niggaz getting down, do or die
Niggaz, don't try niggaz. I change
My mind I don't want your bitch.
Because sorry ass women just don't get
Rich. You can keep her. I rather
Have A fifi bag cuz it's cheaper.
You can't come up for air know I
Gets deaper. And my hold is so
Cold it's A sleaper so pass the
Reafer. And to yall false balling
Niggaz grab yall's crotches. But
If you paid niggaz just pat yall pockets.

And for sure (Yeah)You got your
I gots mine and were balling
(that's right) so call up everybody.
(What are we doing)Lets pitch in on
A party. For sure you got I gots mine
And were balling(Like A muthafucker)
So call up everybody.
Lets pitch in on A party.

Some body bring the potato
Salad and lets take A ballid.
And who gonna invite the hoes
That make the party valid?
Cuz we don't need A whole crib
Full of dude's again. And then
Here come the police with them
Big black big boots again(Damn.
Kicking niggaz out, hand cuffing
And stuffing jacking and kicking
In there mouth. And trying to start
Bitchen cuz somebody rolled up bud
In A blunt and wont pass the shit.
Who keep turning the lights off?
And why the music keep skippin?
And why these dirty kacki niggaz
Keep trippin? I don't know I'm quick
But I'm still delighted. 500 dollars
Worth of white star about to hide
Cuz you aint drinking my up better
Drink that E&J, Paul Mason, and the rest
Of that wine up.
You party haters need to stop it.
I think we really about to pat yall pockets

Chorus

Hey baby my girlfrien left me
Today so witch one of you Old raggedy
Ass bitches want to come up in
Here and play? That's what my homie
Told her trying to cop the cancoon
Then I caught him hunching in my
Downstairs bathroom, and in the
Kitchen, and up in the dacefloor,
By the big screen T. V, where your
Pants go? Man you niggaz I swear
I try to throw yall A raggedy ass
Party but yall don't even care. Ciggarets
Burn I'm my plush, empty beer bottles in
The bush. And my bitch acting like A lush.
Boy what else could go wrong someone to
Kick the extension cord out of the
(Ooh yall gotta some of the clumsiest muthafu)
To the sounds. Know it's on. Yall
Done fucked up, get out, get on,
Speed up, nigga, get up, take your
Weed home, yeah nigga, the drunk
Nigga said it. Your pockets
That's where I'm headed.

Chorus
Till it fades