Artist: W.C. f/ DJ Crazy Toones Album: Revenge of the Barracuda Song: That's What I'm Talking About Typed by: dy_face@yahoo.com [Intro: W.C.] They call me Dub-Cuda, was the last name Money in my lap, doing a buck in the fast lane The passion of a hustler, I got it And if it ain't about money, I don't wanna talk about it The passion of a hustler, I got it And if it ain't about money, I don't wanna talk about it [Chorus: W.C.] Now let me see your fingers in the sky And if you like money, keep them up high Stand up put your hands up, show me what you all about Real shit nigga - Yeah, that's what I'm talking about [Verse One: W.C.] Getting it in out of the concrete boots In a Coupé a hundred ten, blowing like a flute Fresh off of lockdown, straight out the chute Nigga down for whatever, still all about the loot The property of poverty, the looters of youth Now it's denim on the leather while we're removing the roof The hog on the hog, With the Ds on the Deuce And you can blame it on the alcohol, the weed and the juice Look.. load up my weaponry, Starter cap to the left of me You know when I rep a C, Dub S to the death of me Motherfuckers wasn't respecting me But I'm all up in your chest with heat Giving you sideline bitter niggaz vasectomies Til I rest in peace, Hustle the recipe Your niggaz a bitch baby you need to sit next to me Dub-Cuda, the bandanna dangler OT counting dirty money with the hanky up [Chorus: W.C. X2] [Verse Two: W.C.] Dub got Shake the gators off you Coming again please give me something to walk to I can't leave see, for all of my niggaz Who don't wear tight jeans up their ass needs me Went independent last CD Still sold a shitload of records no radio or TV And I'm sticking to the program Chucks on the concrete while the Cadillac door slams The W was my star symbol My jams make niggaz get down Like barrels out of car windows I'm a nut for Cheese and chuck T's Addicted to big butt cheeks and weaves Not a pop artist but I'll pop they heezy A branch of the same tree as Pac and Eazy Bumping Jam Master Jay and Biggie Iron on the stove, shaking up the Starch Can spraying my Dickies [Chorus: W.C. X2] [Verse Three: W.C.] Now who that nigga quick to shoot it? (Who?) Cap at the truest, the closest to the streets to do it Me, The Deep Fisher in this rap shit I'm a vet In a blue profile, tied around the neezeck Your future baby daddy I might be You ain't never been with a nigga like me Baby slide me you number I'll call you later this weekend I can't talk now, I'm on my way to rob the weed man Love by a few, hated by majority I'm the reason these rappers keep security I go hard kick gears and jump cars Chucking up the hood, three wheeling in your front yard You niggaz is temporary, Facebook Gangsters I put faces on obituaries Nigga, Dub-Cuda, the Bandanna dangler OT counting dirty money with the hanky up [Chorus: W.C. X2] [Outro: DJ Crazy Toones adding quotes below] Yeah, that's what I'm talking about Talking.. Talking.. Talking about, Talking about Yeah, that's what I'm talking about 911, it's the Barracuda, wanna loose Of the good and a juice The passion of a hustler, I got it And if it ain't about money, I don't wanna talk about it!