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Friday Lyrics

"Friday" was written by Ernesto Mitchell / Paul 'neil' Mitchell / Paul 'father P' Mitchell / Mark 'hize' Collinder.
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"Friday" was written by Ernesto Mitchell / Paul 'neil' Mitchell / Paul 'father P' Mitchell / Mark 'hize' Collinder.
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You know it ain't no stoppin' all tha doggs I'm droppin'
It's Friday night so every-thang is poppin'
I got $kin to spend on da Hen'
So let the games begin

"Yakity yak", don't talk back or it's on
Callin' up Earl on the car phone
Mack 10 just got out of court, rollin'
Through the hood in his super sport Brotha Too $hort

Eighteens got the rear view mirrors vibratin'
And deep-dish Daytons, you know how we do it
Ain't nuttin' to it but to floss
Overcrowdin' Harrison-Ross [it's a Mortuary in L.A., CA]

'Cause if ya fuck wit ours, we leave scars
Out of G riden cars, livin' like stars
Might hit tha highway
On the Vegas run, fool, 'cause it's Friday

Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in the air
If ya don't care
Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in the air
If ya don't care

Standin' outside on a Friday livin' on the edge
'Cause we all got 'dem hard heads
It seems like we all a'waitin'
befor' da drive-by playin' tag wit Satan

But we chillin' yeah, yeah we ready and willin'
Ya hear about the latest west side killin'
Forty sippin', set trippin', 4' dippin'
Pistol grippin', neva slippin'

BG's tryin' to hang out
But OG sayin', "Take ya "little' ass in the house!"
My big homey just got out
Used to be down; now he's just crack-out

He was 'bout as hard as Darth Vadar
In his sweatshirt, khakis, and Chuck Taylors
Just seen him in the driveway
Gettin' beat like a smoker, fool, 'cause it's Friday

Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in the air
If ya don't care
Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in the air
If ya don't care, fool!

"Why must I be like that and chase da' cat"
Or settle for a hood rat
Dookie braids no dreadlocks
Flyin' in and out of town with a chicken what she got

And I love her 'cause she down
To fuck around wit the underground pussy hound
And her ass is big round and wide
Jacked up makin' nigga down the ride

Smokin' indo, playin' dat Super Nintendo
Hear a rat, Tat, tat, on my window
Gave her ass dat pelvic thrust
Don't trust the rubber 'cause its bound the bust

In the oven, in the nappy
I had on two so I was happy
'Cause dat HIV'll make ya dick hang sideways
And dat ain't cool fool 'cause its Friday

Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in the air
If ya don't care
Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in the air
If ya don't care

Throw the west side in da air
Throw the east side in da air
Throw the south side in da air
Throw the north side in da air
Oh, yeah

Songwriters
ERNESTO MITCHELL / PAUL 'NEIL' MITCHELL / PAUL 'FATHER P' MITCHELL / MARK 'HIZE' COLLINDER

Published by
Lyrics © Royalty Network, Universal Music Publishing Group, EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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