Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Jr. Short Lionel Hunt, O'Shea Jackson, Tristan Jones
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Send "Ask About Me" Ringtone to your Cell
Ice CubeAsk About Me Lyrics:
I check it in on the West Coast
(Ask about me)
I check it in in the Dirty South
(Ay-yeah)
I check it in in the Midwest
(Hustle, man)
I check it in on the East Coast
(The Hustle Gang, look at me)
(Don Matta', Poppa Don)
Check my blood pressure, they think they fresher than the Don
Prescription pills to keep me calm, nigga, I'm da bomb
In the black Testerosa, Sippin' on Mimosa, a bleedin' nosa
I'm in the West, we ain't got the nego
Give me Sicko kilos from Puerto Rico when I okay it
So much cheese, you got to weigh it
Never thought these niggaz was the feds
"Freeze" was the sound, I started lettin' off rounds
Lay the whole fuckin' room down
I don't wanna see Your Honor
Ratha eat pirhana from Benny Hana
Smokin' marijuana in my sauna
I done hade it with these attics and faggots
They them rattic causin' static, bring me my A U T O matic
Oh, niggaz wanna se how we ride
Bitch, you know the muthafuckin' side, world muthafuckin' wide
Make yo' hustle official and them niggaz that's wit' you
Gotta push tha issue on the fools that dis you
Whether pump or pistol when it's up in yo' gristle
Hand yo' mama a tissue if I decide to kiss you
I check it in on the West Coast
(Ask about me)
I check it in in the Dirty South
(Ask about me)
I check it in in the Midwest
(Hustle, man)
I check it in on the East Coast
(The Hustle Gang, look at me)
(Don Matta', Poppa Don)
Can you dig her? It's the bigger, seven-figure, super nigga
Wit' the triggas at yo' dome, we like to roam,
Through yo' muthafuckin' home like a comb
And find the money that's gone
And we'll take you, shake you, break you, take two
Play you on wit' the chrome, nigga shoot
Execute, they try to electrocute, I got too much loot
Ya say, I'm on yo' hit list, you niggaz miss
Tryin' to turn my muthafuckin' cheese into Swiss
Rappers make bucks and I can hear it, hard to fear it
'Cuz I know you grew up on my lyrics
It's the boss player, never lost hair over assholes
Blast holes in you muthafuckin' tadpoles
Like a bullfrog, nigga I'm a bullhog
Guppies get worked like puppies by the bulldog
Where millions never gave a fuck about Sicilians
Or killas on T.V. can see, we got the real ones
So check yo' muthafuckin' CD-Rom
And your World Wide Web, dot com
It's the Don Mega
Make yo' hustle official and them niggaz that's wit' you
Gotta push tha issue on the fools that dis you
Whether pump or pistol when it's up in yo' gristle
Hand yo' mama a tissue if I decide to kiss you
I check it in on the West Coast
(Ask about me)
I check it in in the Dirty South
(Ask about me)
I check it in in the Midwest
(Hustle, man)
I check it in on the East Coast
(The Hustle Gang, look at me)
(Don Matta', Poppa Don)
What cha call it?
(The Hustle Gang)
What cha call it?
(The Hustle Gang)
What cha call it?
(The Hustle Gang)
What cha call it?
(Hustle, man)
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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