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lirik lagu pull ya card – lord finesse

– 2003 fat beats records version

[ verse 1: lord finesse ]
i wonder how brothers’ heads are screwed on
when they frontin around town with the next man jewels on
talkin ’bout they could’ve been a star
sportin turned off beepers, drivin around in rented cars
that only happens in america
when you catch a brother frontin with a turned off cellular
out there tryin to jingle
like he’s the m-th-f-ckin man and got a knot full of singles
and always half-steppin
cause even at a dice game n-gg-s gotta start -ss-bettin
they have the whole plan plotted
till you say, “celo, everybody pay up,” they yell: (“my man gotta”)
kickin game at random
his favorite line is: (“don’t worry, i’ma hit you off when my man come”)
and how claim he got power
when he doesn’t have a pot to p-ss in or a window to throw it out of
and always frontin like the other kids
not a dime to his name and still livin in his mother’s crib
so why you’re frontin like you’re large?
don’t front on me, n-gg-, i pull your m-th-f-ckin card

[ chorus (4x) ]
pull they cards, yo, tell em how you feel
i gotta it lay it on down (on the real to real)–> large professor

[ verse 2: lord finesse ]
nowadays hoes is ahead of ya
(why you say that?) cause b-tches be frontin on the regular
for instance, take the neighborhood freak
let her get a outfit and her hair done and the b-tch won’t speak
frontin and actin all fly
but pull up in a 535 and homegirl’ll be like: (“hi…”)
girls kick the same old song
(as long as he got money everything is alright) wrong
yo, she’s all out of order
when she barely keeps a quarter lookin for a brother to support her
hangin out and she stay frontin
wear the tightest sh-t and get mad when a m-th-f-cka say somethin
catch homegirl walkin through
and be like: (“what’s up shorty?”) she be like: (“who you think you talkin to?”)
me, i’m quick to say, “walk, hoe”
and save that conversation for a talk show
you wanna know what finesse think?
i don’t give sl-ts enough to make they m-th-f-ckin breath stink
especially when they frontin like stars
i shout ya out, b-tch, and pull your m-th-f-ckin card

[ chorus ]

[ verse 3: lord finesse ]
nowadays you got jerks frontin
the softest n-gg-s talkin ’bout they wanna hurt somethin
matter of fact, i know plenty of frauds
the way brothers act, they deserve m-th-f-ckin emmy awards
nowadays brothers ruin rap
with all this murder and the killin when them n-gg-s don’t be doin that
you startin to bore me, fellas
y’all ain’t murderers, but yo, y’all great f-ckin storytellers
i speak what i feel
and if n-gg-s ain’t real, then keep they f-ckin lip sealed
because they front like vandals
runnin all them scandals when they softer than tevin campbell
(“i kill a n-gg-“) that’s what most say
when they wouldn’t shoot a fly off the wall if they had a can of roach spray
so why you’re frontin like you’re hard?
don’t front on me, n-gg-, i pull your m-th-f-ckin card

- lord finesse

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