album cover
Wrong 4 Dat (feat. Keith Murray)
602
Hip-Hop/Rap
Wrong 4 Dat (feat. Keith Murray) was released on January 1, 2001 by RAL (Rush Associated Label) as a part of the album Malpractice
album cover
Release DateJanuary 1, 2001
LabelRAL (Rush Associated Label)
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM94

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Redman
Redman
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Keith Murray
Keith Murray
Songwriter
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Songwriter
Reggie Noble
Reggie Noble
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Producer
Tommy Uzzo
Tommy Uzzo
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

This is WKYA we kickin yo ass radio
All you motherfuckers out there that wanna get down with the Pound
Put your motherfuckin pounds up, and start bustin the motherfuckers
Am I too loud for this motherfucker?
Turn me down a little bit, every year, every year
Yo, first of all I'm a grown-ass man, pay my own bills
Stated own real, haters gon' feel
Direct syndrome, mouth with cold tongue
You bounty hunters be on a chase for Joe Young
I won't slip, keep pink slips to my car
I'm raw like sushi bars on bougie broads
I retrieve the money, dog labrador
Ray Charles can see it and Stacy Lattisaw
You get mashed out, cause your bird is peckin
Don't be the next vinyl cut to Urban Legend
I can feel where you at, when I pound you up
You out of town coke rhymes, oh you clowns is up
My crew stay in the truck, can't fit in the Porsche
If your bitches ain't happy, then get a divorce
I'ma do what I want, cause my time is now
Grab the whole rap game, and divide it down
If I wanna roll a Jeep with the seat out the back
Bitch feet out the back, system beat out the track
Am I wrong for that? Dog, am I wrong for that?
Yo, if I walk into the club with my hand on my snub
Beatin down security cause I don't give a fuck
Am I wrong for that? Dog, am I wrong for that?
Yo, c'mon man
I copped the whole box when half were reggie
Hollow tips infrareds and effin clips came free
And you ain't gotta believe me, fuck bein nervous
Far as I'm concerned they read your funeral service
What do we have here? Snitch in despair, shoot off his ear
Have his whole body shakin in fear
Stormtrooper fire thrower lashin out flames
Then view ashes when they analyze your remains
I live in the streets, reside with the toolie
I'll kill you like it's part of my religious duty
Street sweeper thugs keep it sweepin thugs under the rug
Even females who think they thugs
Trigger the release of adrenaline
When I'm gangsta trippin like the Bloods and Crips and them
Unleash the matter of energy, killin em
Why'd you do it? Because I wasn't feelin em
If I ride through the hood smokin a ounce of haze
With a shabby haircut and pants I wore for days
Am I wrong for that? C'mon bitch, am I wrong for that?
Yo, if I want a fat chick that keep her toes done
When they playin my song ass spill out the thong
Am I wrong for that? Hah, am I wrong for that?
C'mon
I gotta bang the boogie to the bang bang pussy
To the bang to the pussy to B, B
And if yo' bitch ain't sippin the Cristal shit
Then she might be leavin with D, D
I got a hairy-ass chest, like Austin Powers
That bitch that Stan drowned I fucked around with her
Act like a man, stand on your own two
Not takin it all, fuck who it belong to
Written by: Erick Sermon, Keith Murray, Reggie Noble
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