DIAMOND

Photo of General Kabaka Oba's new love named Joy R. Rolland Oba, aka, The Diamond Princess of The Black Fist.  She was the Foxy Brown of his heart and soul!
(FOXY BROWN'S I'LL BE PLAYS.)

LYRIC:
[Jay-Z]

That's right, papa, that's right
How we do, yeah, Ill Na Na
Uh huh, uh, come on...
[Foxy]
What up pop, brace yourself as I ride on top
Close your eyes as you ride, right out your socks
Double, lose his mind as he grind in the tunnel
Wanna gimme the cash he made off his last bundle
Nasty-girl don't pass me the world
I push to be not the backseat girl
Don't deep throat the C-note she float
Murder she wrote, and keeps the heat close
Firm nigga, we 'posed to be the illest on three coasts
Familia, bigga than Icos
Y'all, Danny DeVitoes, small niggaz
All I see is the penny heaters, that's all niggaz
No shark in this year raise it bigga
Fifteen percent make the whole world sit up
and take notice, Na Na take over
Y'all take quotas, to hit papa
[Chorus: Jay-Z]
Straight out the gate y'all, we drop hits
Now tell me, how nasty can you get
All the way from the hood to your neck of the woods
It's ripped, one thing for sure -- I'll be good
[repeat 2X]
[FOXY:] I'm 2 Live, Nasty As I Wanna Be
[JAY-Z:] Don't shake your sassy ass in front of me
'fore I take you there and tear your back out
[FOXY:] That shit ain't happened since The Mack was out
[Foxy]
Uhh, rollin for Lana, dripped in Gabbana
Nineties style, you find a style
Right away it's the fit, wanna taste the shit
Put me on a bass, and throw your face in it, fucker
Na Na, y'all can't touch her
My sex drive all night like a trucker
let alone the skills I posess
And y'all gon' see by these mil's I posess
Never settle for less, I'm in excess
Not inexpensive DVS
To the two, that's just the way I'm built
Nasty -- what, classy, still
[Chorus]
[Jay-Z]
Well you can hoe what I got, roll with the rock
The fella Capo in the candy apple drop
Will tears fall to your ears if I don't stop
Can ya throw it like a quarterback, third in the lot?
[Foxy]
Dig me, I get you locked like Biggie, wit Irv in the spot
Word middie, the cop 'n biddie
Uhh, I'm the bomdigi, punana
Sexy brown thing, uh, Madon' y'all
Make em turn over from the full-court pressure
to undress ya and shit all over your asses
I ain't playin knockin out at the Williams
I'm sayin, what's the sense in delayin
I'm tryin to run G from the P to the A.M.
I saw your little thing now I'm swayin, OK'in
(ahh, shit... uh, uh)
[Chorus]

TRICK

"Trix are for kids," goes the commercial.
But if tricks are for kids then, why do adult brothaz keep getting "tricked" by the dumb bitch Pissy Prissy X (PPX)? Are they that stupid?
I was one of those brothaz. Mia X's UNLADYLIKE rap lyrics mirrors PPX:

 LYRIC:
Hey, yo Mia!
[Mia X]
What's up
[KLC]
What you think about this beat right here
You can do something with this
[Mia X]
Shit, man KL you motherfucker this beat is fire
[KLC]
Now that's what I'm talkin' bout
I need you to drop some mackin' ass shit off this
You don't have none of that huh
[Mia X]
Nigga you know I got some of everything
I'm Unlady Like (Door Knocking) Who that is
[KLC]
That's ya beat
[Mia X]
Oh, OK well come here baby, why you holdin' up, you know I love you
I know you still ain't trippin cause you seen that nigga downtown
I don't care nothing about him
You ain't seen no kissing, you ain't seen no hugging, none of that
No emotions cause I give all my emotions to you
You want me to make you feel extra special
Now look at ya I see you trying to fight that smile back off ya face
My baby, please don't give it to me, now give me some sugar
Alright now, you know you my million dollar nigga
So why don't you go on and make it happen for mama
[Verse 1]
See I flip scripts on niggas blow they mind like the wind
Iceberg Slim pimped hoes, but I got my money and clothes from him
Gator skin boots and purses for my slick verses
When I ride it I twerk it, leave they body jerkin' and twitchin'
Then I position my frame of thought
Spit game, eye contact so it can soften his heart
I lie if I have to even cry if I have to
But in the end it's the law, they gon' buy what I ask for
No rushin' I make sling it all then bring it all to me
I used to be a rider, flyer now I'm retired see
I took lessons from Big Vie and 67
She still got them niggas down to do whatever
I ain't gon' lie it's well known, I'm a fool in the bed
And I understand full blown, niggas suckers for head
Raw skills leave em' for dead, toes curl then shed
Moaning, sighing, shivering like a little ol' bitch
Just the art of pimpin' and pussy whippin' excites me
After hearing the show ladies wanna be just like me
Shiesty, to keep my queen property and nice ride
My game's so tight it's unladylike
[Phone Conversation]
Hey darling, it's daddy put mommy on the phone
Yeah Barbara it's Richie yeah look I ain't never coming home no more
Take it easy
[Verse 2]
I ain't right, cause I especially
Send my nigga out to play on and flirt with other broads with big cheese
I even dress him and tell him to say the shit we like to hear
Tell her you want a committment and wanna build shit with her
Don't forget to lick the pussy nigga, eat your Wheaties
Cause you gon' need to bust about three or four nuts, no speedys
Cook the breakfast and the flowers only
He gon' comeback knowin' where the safe's at,
And he gon' take that and bring it on to mama
Send me off to relax, with my girls in the Bahamas
Sipping pina coladas
And I'ma be on the sand, plotting on his friends
Especially the dark one with the six-hundred Benz
His ends is long, he say he don't buy me shit
Two weeks later, that same nigga, I was driving his shit
With the keys to his crib, Prada full of his G's
Knew the secret hiding place for the China and weed
All my need he's trying to fulfill
Wanna be my number one, every time I make him come
It's like the boy gets dumber and dumber
Cause mama say I got him under a gree-gree
Take me shopping in New York, let them repossess her car, unladylike
[Phone Conversation]
Yeah, man your not ruining my whole day, just do what I say
Man just the other day I run into the law
He up and out left with all my ends, ya dig
Man I love my baby, I'm waiting for her to come back
She has been gone three months man, damn
[Verse 3]
Nigga, MC's is always talkin' bout the game they got
Wanna be pimps and playas but what about that beef cock
Heifer, that got you missing studio sessions
And got you calling her all day sweatin'
Is you the same nigga to get on a mic and say fuck a ho
Even though the one you love is up in ya bed, giving head
To the nigga that I sent, coming back giving me fifteen percent
Now, now I listen to your record and I laugh
You weak for ass, and you know this compare the math
Talkin' to a real pimp and I'ma drop it
Cool off nigga, I know ya mad but don't knock it
The truth hurts like life's a bitch
And she happens to be down with No Limit, and money shit
Mama Mia, x-rated, extra hard, extra tight, extra unladylike
 [KLC]
PPX doesn't like to kick it with a broke brotha, if she can avoid it.  She didn't gank me of money, but she ganked a hell of a lot of my time. And time is money. And since time is money, you can say, she did gank me out of money after all.  
General Mills doesn't endorse anything about The Black Fist nor this blog.

PHOTOS OF NICOLE DAVIS, AKA, NIKKI X, AKA, PPX.

STREET

Black Fist - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Black Fist is an obscure 1975 blaxploitation film about a streetfighter who goes to work for a white gangster and a corrupt cop. The film is in public domain. Its tagline was "The Big Bad Black Dude of the Streets... He'll bust you up, slam you down and blast you into pieces!"


Contrary to the Black character of the 1975 film, General Kabaka Oba (GKO) took his fights to the political arena, and was an excellent contender.  No matter whether he was at Cincinnati City Hall, protesting on the streets, at rallies, or on the radio stations WLW 700am and WDBZ 1230am, people knew he meant business. Because of America's discrimination, oppression, and brutal attacks inflicted on the disadvantages, particularly Black people, he worked tiredlessly on their behave for hope and change.  He had the heart of a champion.  He was the people's hero.  Their "SHAFT".

(ISAAC HAYES' SHAFT PLAYS.)

LYRIC:
Who's the black private

dick that's a sex machine to all the chicks?
(Shaft!)
You're damn right
Who is the man that would risk his neck for his brother man?
(Shaft!)
Can ya dig it?
Who's the cat that won't cop out
when there's danger all about
(Shaft!)
Right on
You see this cat Shaft is a bad mother--
(Shut your mouth)
But I'm talkin' about Shaft
(Then we can dig it)
He's a complicated man but no one understands him but his woman
(John Shaft)
He has truly earned the championship title of being "The Big Bad Black Dude of Politics."

          PHOTO OF GENERAL KABAKA OBA
REST IN PEACE, CHAMP.

JOE

askgeneralnikkix@yahoo.com

THE FOLLOWING IS AN EXCERPT FROM 9NEWS PRODUCTION WORK BY NEIL RELYEA CONCERNING JOE DETERS' RESIDENCY IN SEPTEMBER 2004, WHEN DETERS WAS A CANDIDATE FOR THE HAMILTON COUNTY PROSECUTOR'S OFFICE:


Kabaka Oba has filed a complaint with the Hamilton County Board of Elections claiming that Deters has not proved he met the legal qualifications to be write-in candidate.


Candidates for the county prosecutor's position must be a resident of the county as well as be licensed as an attorney.
Deters, who is also the current state treasurer of Ohio, lived in Butler County until he day he filed to run in the November election.
On that same day, Deters says he and his family moved into an apartment in Blue Ash.

THIS IS THE REASON WHY, AFTER JOE BECAME HAMILTON COUNTY PROSECUTOR, THAT HE MADE SURE HIS GENERAL KABAKA OBA (GKO)PROSECUTION CASE WAS VERY WEAK AGAINST HOWARD BEATTY, THE MAN WHO MURDERED GKO.  IT MADE NIKKI X EXTREMELY HAPPY THAT THE PROSECUTION CASE WAS INEFFECTIVE.

PHOTO OF GENERAL KABAKA OBA.  REST IN PEACE.

 

TRIBUTE

I am blessed to see this day, I am cursed to see children malnurished away.
You know it betta, here in Amerikkka, that perfect health is a joksta.
Loving families,friends, and church goers pray for the hunger to end,
Supportive health programs are no more our
friends.
The City leaders need a hard hit in their chin
Why must children dig through garbage for food, this is America's sin.
The rich are phat on their Career, they got meningitis and can't hear.
They reside in good stable homes, while poor children live in sorrow and moan.
America has committed treason, that's why GKO chastized city council for being such weak sons.
Peace? Children don't have GKO for a hope of relief.  -poem by the delegate in memory of General Kabaka Oba (GKO). R.I.P.

Kabaka of Buganda - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Kabaka is the title of the king of Buganda. According to the traditions of the Baganda they are ruled by two kings, one spiritual and the other material. The spiritual, or supernatural, king is represented by the Royal Drums. These are regalia called Mujaguzo and, as they always exist, the Buganda at any time will always have a king. Mujaguzo, like any other king, has his own palace, officials, servants and palace guards.
 Oba (ruler) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Oba, (pronounced Or-ba, means King or ruler in the Yoruba language). Oba's are the traditional heads of Yoruba settlements. The Yoruba word, 'oba', has also been adopted by some non-Yoruba ethnic groups. Yoruba settlements are often composed of of three main generations:-The first generation is made up of founding towns and cities of the origin or capitals of Yoruba states/kingdoms. The second generation is those created by conquest, diaspora or/and resettlement. The third generation is those that emerged after the Yoruba wars.


Tribute to a Black Soldier
By James Clingman


Kabaka Oba died April 15 in Cincinnati, after being shot five times three days earlier in front of City Hall. In broad daylight, around 3 p.m., after addressing the City Council, "the General," as he was called, was sitting in his car when six or seven shots rang out. Gravely wounded but still able to identify his assailant to police officers, Kabaka fought for his life; but finally he succumbed.
Just a week prior to his death, General Kabaka was memorializing Timothy Thomas, the young Black man killed by a police officer in Cincinnati five years ago whose death spawned civic unrest and a boycott of Cincinnati. Kabaka abhorred and fought unceasingly against police brutality — his mission, he called it — and spoke out against it and on other issues in support of Black people.
He demonstrated against the Klan when it made its annual pilgrimage to Cincinnati during the Christmas holidays; he went to City Council meetings for at least five years straight to protest the inequities that exist in this city. He addressed the county commissioners as well, relentless in his determination to speak truth to power. Kabaka was not a perfect man, but how many of us are prepared to throw the first stone at him? He had his warts, like we all do, but he wore his compassion for his people right over his heart, for all to see. There was nothing he would not do in support of Black people. That kind of personality will always create enemies, of course; but Kabaka understood and dealt with the reality and the possibility that he would be harmed in some way.
Who would have ever thought that a Black man would be accused of killing Kabaka Oba? But then again, who would have thought a Black man would have killed Malcolm X? Of course, the White media had a field day with this tragedy, mainly because of its animus for Kabaka and what he stood for. On many occasions, they resorted to that old stand-by of calling him a racist and a hater of all police officers and other ethnic groups. They called him anti-Semitic as well, the tried and true way of raising ire against a Black man.
But no matter the names he was called, no matter the accusations, no matter the persecution, Kabaka continued to smile and stay on the course he had charted. He continued to help others, to protect others, and to comfort others, despite the personal battles he had to fight along the way.
Ironically, Kabaka's death is grounded in one of the issues for which he fought, an issue for which the boycott of Cincinnati was called. Economic exclusion has been the bane of Cincinnati for many years. Through blatant discrimination and collusion, Black people have been excluded from the real economic benefits of public and private development projects. The rift between Kabaka and his accused killer, as the story is told, resulted from economic issues — a boycott and a picket line.
How ironic it is that a Black soldier, committed to fighting for economic justice for his people, is killed because of an unrelated economic issue that he was accused of causing. And even more ironic, if the primary problem of economic apartheid in the city of Cincinnati had been solved, the nonsensical secondary economic issue that led to Kabaka's death would not have existed. We created a new problem by not fixing the original problem. If we, Black folks, had been collectively "fighting the power" instead of individually fighting one another, Kabaka might be alive today.
What does that say about us as role models to our children? What will that do to stop our youths from killing one another? Two Black families are suffering now, at the loss of two Black men. We are literally killing ourselves and our families. How are we ever going to reach our children, if we continue such inappropriate behavior as adults?
Why does someone always have to die before we get serious about taking care of our business? Much of Black Cincinnati is now in mourning; we hear all the condolences being conveyed on the radio. How long will that last? Is it that we just love to pay tributes to people who have died? Everything we are saying now about Kabaka should have been said to him, not to one another. I feel good because I told him what I thought of his work; I gave him his flowers before he died.
I will end this column with a quote from my book Black-O-Knowledge, Stuff We Need to Know. It is an excerpt from “Compa$$ionate Capitali$m” by Ta-Nehisi Coates. "Forty years [after his death], it's easy to quote Malcolm and put him on a postage stamp — now that we've killed him. Martin Luther King Jr. was ultimately abandoned by the civil rights establishment for his stand against poverty and war. Today he has a national holiday, and even conservatives have to honor him — now that he's no longer here to shame them. Ditto for the Black Panthers. Everybody says their dad wore a black beret — now that J. Edgar Hoover isn't alive to tap their phones.”
Progressive vision almost always lacks mass appeal. While possibly enjoying a bit of rebellious sheen, prophetic insight is decidedly uncool; it involves the sacrifice of family livelihoods, the sullying of reputations, and, at worst, death. Only the afterglow is romantic. Everybody says they would have fought with Nat Turner — now that none of us are slaves.
Pray for Kabaka Oba’s family.
James E. Clingman, an adjunct professor in the University of Cincinnati's African American Studies Department, is former editor of the Cincinnati Herald newspaper and founder of the Greater Cincinnati African American Chamber of Commerce. He hosts the radio program ''Blackonomics'' and has written several books, To book Clingman for a speech or to purchase his books, go to his Web site, http://www.blackonomics.com/, or call him at 513-489-4132.

INFECT

NICOLE DAVIS, AKA, NIKKI X, AKA, PPX, GOT SEXUAL TRANSMITTED DISEASES AGAIN!  THANK GOD, I DON'T FUCK HER ANYMORE!

 

PHOTO COURTESY OF parasitologia.freewebpages.org/trichomonas.htm

PHOTO COURTESY OF  health-res.com/trichomonas-vaginalis-treatment/


PHOTO COURTESY OF  health-res.com/trichomonas-vaginalis-treatment/

She's not due for a pap smear for another week.  Why's she making excessive gynecologist appointments? Just like the so called "Aids" test is no protection against std's, same applies to Pap smears.  But let the dumb ass bitch continue to think so.

                                                        PHOTO COURTESY OF  zazzle.com 


AIN'T NO MAYBE, PPX IS A BAG OF TROUBLING DISEASES!





































PRAY FOR THE BROTHAZ WHO GOT HEAD FROM HER!

THEIR MINDS ARE UNSTABLE AFTER BEING TOLD THAT THEIR INFECTED!

(OZZY OSBOURNE'S SHOT IN THE DARK PLAYS.)

LYRIC:
Out on the street, I'm stalking the night

I can hear my heavy breathing.
Paid for the kill but it doesn't seem right
Something there I can't believe in.
Voices are calling from inside my head
I can hear them, I can hear them.
Vanishing memories of things that were said
They can't try to hurt me now.
But a shot in the dark one step away from you
Just a shot in the dark always creeping up on you
Alright.
Taught by the powers that preach over me
I can hear their empty reason
I wouldn't listen I learnt how to fight
I opened up my mind to treason
But just like the wounded and when it's too late
They'll remember, they'll surrender
Never a care for that people who hate
Underestimate me now
But a shot in the dark, one step away from you
Just a shot in the dark, nothing that you can do
A shot in the dark, always creeping up on you.
Alright.
But just like the wounded and when it's too late
They'll remember they'll surrender
Never a care for the people who hate
Underestimate me now
But a shot in the dark, one step away from you
Just a shot in the dark, nothing that you can do
Just a shot in the dark ,always creeping up on you. all right
Just a shot in the dark
Just a shot in the dark
Just a shot in the dark
Just a shot in the dark

INFECTED WITH POISON.  SHOULD HAVE PAID ATTENTION TO THE INSTINCT.  THE PRICE TO PAY FOR HITTIN' HER GIGANTIC ASS.  NEVER TRUST A GIRL WITH A BIG BUTT AND A SMILE.

(BELL BIV DEVOE'S POISON PLAYS.)

LYRIC:
[Michael Bivins:] Yeah, Spiderman and Freeze in full effect

[Ronnie DeVoe:] Uh-huh
[Ricky Bell:] You ready, Ron?
[DeVoe:] I'm ready
[Bell:] You ready, Biv?
[Bivins:] I'm ready, Slick, are you?
[Bell:] Oh, yeah, break it down
[Verse 1: Ricky Bell]
Girl, I, must
(warrrrrn yoooooooooou)
I sense something strange in my mind
Situation is (seriooooooooous)
Let's cure it 'cause we're running out of time
It's oh, so (beautifuuuuuuuuul)
Relationships they seem from the start
It's all so (deadllllllllly)
When love is not together from the heart
[Hook:]
It's drivin' me out of my mind!
That's why it's HARD for me to find
Can't get it out of my head!
Miss her, kiss her, love her
(Wrong move you're dead!)
[Chorus:]
That girl is POISOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON...
Never trust a big butt and smile
that girl is POISOOOOOOOOOOOOOON..
("POISON!!" - Kool G. Rap)
[Verse 2:]
[If I were you I'd take pre-]
(-cautiooooooooooooon)
Before I start to meet fly girl, you know?
'Cause in some (portiooooooooooons)
You'll think she's the best thing in the world
She's so - (flyyyyyyyyyyyy)
She'll drive you right out of your mind
and steal your heart when you're blind
Beware she's schemin', she'll make you think you're dreamin'
YOU'LL fall in love and you'll be screamin', demon, HOO..
[Rap Verse: Ronnie Devoe]
Poison, deadly, movin it slow
Lookin for a mellow fellow like DeVoe
Gettin paid, laid, so better lay low
Schemin on house, money, and the whole show
The low pro hoe she'll be cut like an aaa-FRO
See what you're sayin', huh, she's weighin' you
But I know she's a loser (How do you know?)
Me and the crew used to do her!
POISOOOOOOOOOOOON...
[Kool G. Rap:] ("POISON!!")
[Mixing of Kool G. Rap's "POISON!!"]
[Michael Bivins:]
I was at the bar, shake, breakin and takin 'em all
And that night, I played the wall
Checkin out the fellas, the highs and lows
Keepin one eye open, still clockin' the hoes
There was one particular girl that stood out from the rest
Poison as can be, the high power chest
Michael Biv here and I'm runnin' the show
Bell, Biv DeVoe [Ronnie laughs]
..now you know!
Yo, Slick, blow..
[Hook and chorus]
[B.B.D.: adlibs]
Yo' fellas, that was my end of..
You know what I'm sayin', Mike?
Yeah, B.B.D. in full effect
Yo', wassup to Ralph T and Johnny G
And I can't forget about my boy, B. Brown
and the whole NE crew
POISOOOOOOOOOON...
[Bell harmonies]

PHOTOS OF NICOLE DAVIS, AKA, NIKKI X, AKA, PPX.

WHITE

In July of 2008, a magistrate told Nicole Davis, aka, Nikki X, aka, PPX and I, to the effect of, "You two get along."  So here's a white rose in memory of her birthday, August 23, 1968.
White roses are so beautiful. But the dumb bitch PPX isn't.
Some men have greeted her happy birthday.  They want her tits and ass,

and when they're finish, they'll pass her around to the next homie, just like brothaz pass da weed around.


   (DR. DRE'S THE ROACH AND SNOOP DOGG'S AIN'T NO FUN IF THE HOMIES CANT HAVE NONE  PLAYS.)  

LYRIC:
[Verse 1: RBX]

Cannabis Sativa, ha ha, or in the heart of L.A. known as the Chronic
Not to be confused with the Bionic
Even though, it does cost six million dollars
Man, understand, ah, ha, ha
Now, we're working with some new improved shit on this track
Nevertheless, not no stress, sucker ass niggaz!!
So now we're gonna move on and uhh...
Light a big fat one up for the world; and hit this
Once or twice and you'll be twice as nice, get it?
This is the Chronic, ahh, hha, hha
[Interlude 1: Ruben]
Play that motherfucker out there, nigga!!
[Chorus: Emmage, Daz Dillinger & Jewell]
Make my Bud the Chronic, I wants to get fucked
Make my shit the Chronic, I gots to fire it up
I want the bomb, I want the Chronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my Bud the Chronic, before I take it home
[Verse 2: RBX]
Stay in my last joint, don't fuck with me fool
Pass the bud, Who got the dope sacks?
WooooooWheee, this is shouting a motherfucker, man
[Snoop Dogg] You can take it or leave it, nigga
But I need a spliff right now
[Lady of Rage] Roll this shit up then, nigga
And I don't want no Sess, brother
It's got to be the Chronic, you know what I mean, nigga?
(Inhale) Yeah, that's the Chronic
That's the Chronic, that's the Bomb bud
[Lady of Rage] You ain't never lied, nigga
Now, get me a motherfucking Zig-Zag and we're straight
[Snoop Dogg] Yeah nigga, I got some of that
Or better yet, a motherfucking blunt
[Lady of Rage] I got that shit
A Philliy blunt that is
[Lady of Rage] See you dog
[Chorus: Emmage, Daz Dillinger & Jewell X2]
Make my Bud the Chronic, I wants to get fucked
Make my shit the Chronic, I gots to fire it up
I want the bomb, I want the Chronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my Bud the Chronic, before I take it home
[Interlude 2: RBX]
God, damn, I'm fucked up!!
[Lady of Rage] Damn, I'm fucked up too
That shit ain't no joke, awww, shit
No, I want no more, I want shit
Just leave me alone, just let me chill out
And listen to this shit, I'm high!
[Chorus: Emmage, Daz Dillinger & Jewell X2]
Make my Bud the Chronic, I wants to get fucked
Make my shit the Chronic, I gots to fire it up
I want the bomb, I want the Chronic
I gots to get fucked up
Make my Bud the Chronic, before I take it home
[Verse 3: RBX]
That's fucked up, what they put in this weed?
That's why they call this shit Chronic
[Lady of Rage] I think your ass is high
Uhh, damn, damn, damn, shit
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked, raises the fuck up
Really though, really though
Now, I'm cooler than a motherfucker
That shit, that shit is, that shit's crazy, man
I'm high, damn, that nigga Dre served some shit now..
Oohhhh, I'm ready to fuck some shit up now, baby
[Emmage] Ohh, you can come on and fuck me up
Hmm, hmm, triple cheeseburger
[Emmage] Awww, you're just talking about some food
Some fries, and motherfucking couple of Sodas and shit
And.. hot apple turnovers and all the old shit, nigga
(Yawn) I'm ready to get my mind on
The Bud smells good than a motherfucker too
I don't want hit no more of that old shit
That shit is nice to be fucked with
Nice to be fucked with, I'm hiiighh
Ohhh, nigga, you pass that shit to somebody else
Nigga, I'm through for the night
Really though, really though, nigga
Let's go and get some food and get up out this motherfucker
Cause uhh.. no nigga, don't be trying to pass me that shit
Nigga, I told you I'm cool, ohh, maddness!
[Outro: Ruben]
Ha, I got another dope sack, nigga, Ha ha ha

LYRIC:
[Intro:]

You're back now at the jack-off hour this is DJ, Eazy Dick
On W-Balls, right now, somethin new, by Snoop Doggy Dogg
And this one goes out to the ladies, from all the guys
A big bow wow wow, cuz we gonna make it a little mystery
here tonight, this is DJ Eazy Dick, on the station that
slaps you across your fat ass, with a fat dick
[Verse One: Nate Dogg]
When I met you last night baby
Before you opened up your gap
I had respect for ya lady
But now I take it all back
Cause you gave me all your pussy
And ya even licked my balls
Leave your number on the cabinet
And I promise baby, I'll give ya a call
Next time I'm feelin kinda horny
You can come on over, and I'll break you off
And if you can't fuck, that day, baby
Just lay back, and open your mouth
Cause I have never
met a girl
That I love
in the whole wide world
[Verse Two: Kurupt]
Well, if Kurupt gave a fuck about a bitch I'd always be broke
I'd never have no motherfuckin indo to smoke
I gets loced and looney, bitch you can't Do Me
Do we like BBD, you hoochie groupie?
I have no love for hoes
That's somethin I learned in the pound
so how the fuck am I supposed
to pay this hoe, just to lay this hoe
I know the pussy's mines, I'ma fuck a couple more times
And then I'm through with it, there's nothing else to do with it
Pass it to the homie, now you hit it
Cause she ain't nuthin but a bitch to me
And y'all know, that bitches ain't shit to me
i gives a fuck, why don't y'all pay attention
Approach it with a different proposition, I'm Kurupt
Hoe you'll never be my only one, trick ass beeeitch!
[Chorus: (repeat 4X)]
It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none
[Verse Three: Snoop Doggy Dogg]
Guess who back in the motherfuckin house
With a fat dick for your motherfuckin mouth
Hoes recognize, niggaz do too
Cuz when bitches get skanless and pull a voodoo
What you gon do? You really don't know
So I'd advise you not to trust that hoe
Silly of me to fall in love with a bitch
Knowin damn well, I'm too caught up with my grip
Now as the sun rotates and my game grows bigger
How many bitches wanna fuck this nigga named Snoop
Doggy, I'm all the above
I'm too swift on my toes to get caught up with you hoes
But see, it ain't no fun, if my homies can't get a taste of it
Cause you know I don't love em
[Verse Four: Warren G]
Whoa!
Hey, now ya know, inhale, exhale with my flow
One for the money, two for the btiches
Three to get ready, and four to hit the switches
In my Chevy, six-fo' Rad to be exact
With bitches on my side, and bitches on back
So back up bitch cuz i'm strugglin, so get
off your knees and then start jugglin
these motherfuckin nuts in your mouth
It's me, Warren G the nigga with the clout
Whoo!
[Chorus]
They play the game of being a gentleman and sincere just to hit that ass. And the dumb bitch will fall for it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY you dumb ass lost bitch!
PHOTO COURTESY OF  idrawgirlsexclusive.blogspot.com

PHOTOS OF NICOLE DAVIS, AKA, NIKKI X, AKA, PPX.