Baggage Claim Lyrics

DJ Haze
Wutsup n****, n***** know what the f*** it is
the main n****, yea
I be down in lil Haiti, bagin a lil weezy and a lil baby
In a drop top mercedes, I'm not what your used to
I'm a lil koo-koo, I'll put this 9 on your head like a f***** bluetooth
And let the smoke from the benz exhaust blend with
the smoke from the cough cuz that marijuana I'm smokin
Mary J whats the 411, call guidos people i need 4 more guns
And shoutout to LL for no f***** reason
Cuz he the reason Def Jam was ever breathin
Number one, you n***** cant f*** with son
Number two, new DJs dont have a clue
Number three, to ever to be a real MC
You have to go back to '88 and battle Cool G
Then battle Cool Jay with Cool Herp judgin
Im the opposite of the levy in new orleans im not budging
n***** talkin bout they cars, n**** I got a dozen
You couldnt see Game if you were Chris Paul cousin
While we talkin bout cousin, if you was cousin
Then i'll be blooding, so you still aint sayin nothin
I'm comin outta customs, on the phone with busta
Lil duffle bag boys, i'm swimmin in trust funds
So trust that its fun, let ms. white scholar (?)
and this white collar touch my ones
Jay got married, whatup b
I wish i could of threw the rice, just like salt to me
And I'm right where i ought to be
Across from Jack Nickolson n**** playoff seats
Whatup Bynum, hows that playoff ...(?)
Next timeout tell kobe run the playoff me
Cuz I dribbled in hallways allday, did drive bys in broad day
And i lost a homie in a car chase
think I'm bullshittin call Face, call Mase
Im a ghetto boy n**** i grew up on scarface
Call Nas, how that cuban cigar taste
Ask about the homie Suge, I'll blow the smoke in your face
Now wouldnt it be gangsta if i knocked out the n**** that hit him
At the club throw up a m*********** dub
Im an animal around these parts, I'm a cannibal around your heart
Hannibal chewin through cantelope
Couldnt find a doctro I had to make my own antedote
Never detox and I blow it like Barry Manelope
Cali Cronic Purple Haze, twistin up a back wood
Thinkin bout when I was runnin through 50s back woods
In Conneticut my eddicate was gangsta
d***, I was right there when he dropped w***sta
Thr good ole days, smokin the good ole js
Rockin good ole Js, the n**** proof or the number fours
I like the number nines, them s**** were hot in the summertime
Keep playin I'll put your a** up under mine
the old Jimmy Henchmen, thats my ratchet game
Welcome to Compton, corners call it baggage claim
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