P.S. Phuk U 2 (Edit)

This is Eazy motherf**kin' E, coming to you direct from the Penthouse

And we chillin' in this motherf**ker

Yo Playa, spit

Break yourself hoes, you're in the presence of his Mackness

Ruthless/Priority is back with another platinum package

For the suckers who didn't think we was coming just like this

Kiss my a** and watch a troop straight freak your b**ch

And get a hoe back with a mack smooth controlling the mind

And the body, be giving up the p**sy a party

See busta-a** niggas getting paid, but it ain't sh*t though

Yeah you punk motherf**kers doing low but yo

Witness a mack with strong back attack with no pity

Getting fat off your b**ch's titty

Los Angeles Players of the Penthouse are worldwide

Run but you can't hide, check your girl I'm sure to slide

Run up and between and get a hoe cause she's been asking for

Don't disrespect us, she'll come back for more

Never underestimate the power of a young troop

Checking a fat grip and ain't on no head trip

With suckers on the nut sack hanging from the hairs

And b**ches on the dick like my BVD underwear

For a freak ain't jocking for any reason, so what?

I'm a still hit some guts, get a nut, and a some cuts, sluta

If you do nothing, say nothing, you'll never be nothing

And there's a sucker born every motherf**kin' minute

Yo Quik, kick that sh*t

Now the suckers take a licking like a Timex

Cause I'm a troop and I'm rolling like a Rolex

And I'm your host with the most, Mr. Quik, Eazy-E

(And the P-E-N-T-H-O-U-S-E) with something bumping for your stereo

But sucker-a** niggas don't hear me though

But funky is the password to make them fear me, though

Cause I'm platinum-bound with that west coast sound

And if you want to get down I got 17 rounds

Claiming you peel caps, ni**a I pull naps

Of the next of the saps with that wack-a** cap

Like these South Bronx niggas, starving like rats

With songs more corny than Yo! MTV Raps

How would you figure that a ni**a like the Quik would show you slack?

I'd rather put a f**king shank in your back

Cause I'm the type of ni**a that'll f**k your moms at gunpoint

Off of Genuine Draft and a bud joint

So if you're looking in The Source magazine and don't see me

It's cause the f**king East Coast is the enemy

But I got something that'll serve you right

Nighty night motherf**kers (gunshot), sleep tight

Here comes another Penthouse Player, stepping on toes

Tweed Cadillac out for the money, the mic, and the hoes

Fade 'em my skinhead ni**a

Now I'm a for sharp clothing and pose and be chosen

I'll rock the mic, the stage, the party, and the hoes and

Rolling suckers up in a zag like a spliff

Smoking 'em, like a new pimp cigarette

It's been said that I'm a get f**ked

Or get f**ked standing straight up

It's something bout your face, make me want to slap it

Something bout your eye, make me want to black it

Call me "Earl Shibe," I'll dip you alive

Spraypaint your posse for $99.95

The track stainless, the record of Tweed

Don't confuse me, for your b**ch or your homey

Yeah I'm talking sh*t, only God can kill me

Your rhymes don't thrill me, suck my sweet dick, Willy

Yo, Larry Parker, where's my 3 million?

I want a bus in ninet deuce fill in

The P the P the C, pimp or die low

Shake it up baby, it's coming back d**e

I ain't from Compton, I dwell in Los Angeles

Heart of California, land of the scandalous

Now there you have it, Penthouse, true motherf**kin' players

Kicking that pimp sh*t for '92

And if you don't like it, f**k you