PITBULL


Give Them What They Ask For Lyrics

f**k that club
(Shit)
They want that thug
(Shit)

But I ain't no thug
(Bitch)
And I ain't no gangsta
(Bitch)

I'm a hustler, ho
And I got no problem if you want it
You can get it, boy, I bust you

Anybody wanna test? Hi, who? Me
P I to the motherf**kin' T
It's not my fault that your bitch chose me
Now her and her girlfriend wanna do me

This is for them boys in them Chevys sittin'
On them King James, them two, threes
And if you got a problem with me
Holla at my lawyer, bitch, sue me

I'm tired of the f**k boy rap
f**k boy this, f**k boy that
Watch a couple movies and they put it in they rhyme
Wanna be fiddlers, I'm straight, you get shot nine times

Ten years in the game since ninety nine
I was speakin' my mind, yes sir
And then shit changed, if you got a problem
Bitch cross that kinda line

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that street talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that chopper talk

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that dope talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
That trap boy, jack boy shit

I'ma tell y'all boy, y'all boys got me f**ked up
(Yeah, straight up)
Better duck when them things buck, I ain't nigga boy
Nigga what? Nigga who? Who the f**k is you?

Talkin' to me like you know me
Ain't your dog, ain't your buddy, ain't your homie
Nah brah not me and if you spit it better live it
Better in fact, better show me

I'ma make em say, uhh
Not even Master P could crack like this
And you ain't never seen a chico in the gang
This raw since pawn that could rap like this
(TS)

I hear them and they raps about the coke
And the crack and the click to the clack
But to me it's chit chat
Blam, motherf**ker, take that, now

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that street talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that chopper talk

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that dope talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
That trap boy, jack boy shit

I'ma spit it, flip it, rip it for them boys
Makin' digits off the coke when they whip it
Ride a stick, double clip it
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi
Cock back, click it, blam

Poppin' what you think is last
What you wanna do is get found
In a trunk in a lake and stankin'
I took my money from the shoe box
Now I bank it, foolish, ain't it?

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that street talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that chopper talk

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that dope talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
That trap boy, jack boy shit

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that street talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that chopper talk

I'ma give 'em what they ask for
What they want, that dope talk
I'ma give 'em what they ask for
That trap boy, jack boy shit

f**k that club
(Shit)
They want that thug
(Shit)

But I ain't no thug
(Bitch)
And I ain't no gangsta
(Bitch)

I'm a hustler, ho
And I got no problem if you want it
You can get it, boy, I bust you

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Songwriter(s): Justin Daniel Rockman, Armando Christian Perez
Record Label(s): 2009 RCA JIVE Label Group, a unit of Sony Music Entertainment
Official lyrics by

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