Wrong 4 Dat
Redman Lyrics

This is WKYA, We Kickin Yo' Ass radio
Welcome to WKYA, the station that's not afraid to bring the heat

All you motherfuckers out there that want to get down with the pound put your motherfuckin' pounds up, and start bustin' the motherfuckers
Everyone who's ready to party, put your hands up and let's get this show on the road

Am I too loud for this motherfucker? Turn me down a little bit
Let me know if I'm being too loud and I'll tone it down a bit

Yo, first of all I'm a grown-ass man, pay my own bills
Let me be clear, I'm an adult who takes care of himself

Stated own real, haters gon' feel
I speak the truth and if you don't like it, too bad

Direct Syndrome, mouth with cold tongue
I suffer from speaking my mind with a blunt delivery

You bounty hunters be on the chase for Joe Young
People are always trying to take me down, but I won't slip

I won't slip, keep pink slips to my car
I won't make mistakes, and I own my cars outright

I'm raw like sushi bars on bougie broads
I'm real and uncut, like sushi on expensive dates

I retrieve the money, dawg labrador
I get my money, like a loyal labrador retriever

Ray Charles can see it, and Stacy Lattisaw
It's so obvious, even someone blind like Ray Charles or a pop star like Stacy Lattisaw could see it

You get mashed out, cause your bird is peckin'
You're getting beat up because your girl is running her mouth

Don't be the next vinyl cut to Urban Legend
Don't be the next rapper to fall victim to the classic hip-hop myths

I can feel where you at, when I pound you up
I can sense your energy when we're face-to-face

You out of town coke rhymes, oh you clowns is up
Your out-of-tune raps sound like they were written on cocaine, making you a joke

My crew stay in the truck, can't fit in the Porsche
My squad always rolls deep, we can't even fit in expensive cars

If you bitches ain't happy, then get a divorce
If you're not satisfied, leave the situation and find happiness elsewhere

I'ma do what I want, cause my time is now
I'll do whatever I please, because I am in control of my own destiny

Grab the whole rap game, and divide it down
I'll take on the entire rap industry and come out on top

If I want to roll a Jeep with a seat out the back Bitch feet out the back, system beat out the track Am I wrong for dat? (If that's what you like) Dawg, am I wrong for dat? (Hey, I guess not)
If I want to party hard with my friends, sit in the back of a Jeep, and blast the music, is that so wrong? (No, it's not)

Yo 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 dat? (Mmm mmm) Dawg, am I wrong for dat? (Say what)
If I enter a club with a gun, ready to fight anyone who gives me a problem, is that wrong? (Not in my book)

I copped the whole box, went half with Reginald Hollow tips infrareds and clips came free And you ain't gotta believe me, fuck bein' nervous Far as I'm concerned they're at your funeral service
I bought a bunch of guns and ammo with a friend, and if you don't trust me, too bad, because I'm not afraid to use them on you

What do we have here? Snitch in despair, shoot off his ear Have his whole body shakin' in fear
I caught a snitch and took measures to put him in his place, leaving him traumatized

Stormtrooper fires throwin' lashin' out flames A few ashes, when they analyze your remains
I unleash the full power of my guns and cause destruction, leaving only ashes

I live in the streets, reside with the toolie I kill you like it's part of my religious duty
I'm a street thug who carries a gun with me at all times, and I'm not afraid to use it on anyone who crosses me

Street sweeper thug keeper sweepin' thugs under the rug Even females who think they thugs Trigger the release of adrenaline When I'm gangsta-trippin' like the Bloods'n'Crips'n'them
I eliminate any and all threats to my street cred, even if it means taking out women who want to be thugs, and I thrive on the adrenaline of gangsta life

Unleash the matter of energy, killin' 'em Why'd you do it? Because I wasn't feelin' them!
I use all of my energy and power to kill those who disrespect me, because I'm not their friend

If I ride through the hood, smokin' a ounce of haze (uh-huh) with a shabby haircut, pants I wore for days Am I wrong for dat? (I don't think so) C'mon bitch, am I wrong for dat? (Say what)
If I kick it in the hood with sloppy clothes and a lot of weed, is that so bad? (No, I don't think so)

Yo, if I want a fat chick that keep her toes done (uh-huh) When they playin' my song ass spill out the thong Am I wrong for dat? (Got that big ass) Am I wrong for dat? (Tchk, no)
If I like my women big with pretty toes, and they show off their ass when my song comes on, is that wrong? (No, not at all)

I gotta, bang the boogie to that bang bang pussy To that bang to the pussy the beat, beat And if yo', bitch ain't sippin' that Cristal shit Then she might be leavin' with D, D
I love dancing to music that celebrates female sexuality, and if a woman isn't drinking top-shelf champagne, she may be interested in hooking up with me

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 Doc takin' it all, fuck who it belong to
I have a hairy chest like a movie character, and I've slept with girls who have gotten into trouble before. I suggest you be a man and own up to your mistakes, because I don't care who it belongs to if I want it