"Got Cha Humpin'" as written by Larry Muggerud and Mc Eiht....
Geah
My nigga Muggs in the house
Who keeps you humpin'
Eihthype keeps you thumpin'
Always into somethin'
Westside got it going on
Westside got it going on

Who creeps in smooth with moves like Gotti
Trips to make grips and back to the party
Million dollar holler with the Jazzy Belles
97 makes moves with the freaky tales
Hold up, stop the presses
Floats to the club and show me love in little short dresses
From 8 at night till 6 in the morn'
Intend to get ?naked?, try to put me on
Tick tock, it don't stop, clock keeps tickin'
Pour one more and wait for the liquor to kick in
Lookin suspicious cause you don't know the game plan
To the V.I.P. you peeps the ?three span?
Naughty as I want to be, so check it
Drama to the women I perfected to get naked
2 shots of the V.S.O.P. Rémy
Converstions as I tugs on your bikini
Got to get it, cause I've never had
Takes the party back to my pad, color me bad
Oops... I swoops up in the Coupe
One more pussy to loop, I'm knockin the boots
Geah

Who got you humpin'
Eihthype's always bumpin'
Always into somethin' (geah)
Westside's got it goin' on

Number one desperado, packin the hollows
In a nice tight suit with Christy to swallow
Who's the role model, bitch butt-naked on the boat
'cross the lake, we skate with the heavy weights
Can you feel me? Surfs all night, be rich
500 super sport, low-low's hittin' the switch
Gots long dough, fo' sho', cops paid by the month
Weekly in the club, gots ho's to hunt
Gets mine, nose to the grind, makes cheese
Ain't never seen three niggas like these
Still gots the connects, pulls china white from Muggs
Rolex, more sex by the Compton thugs
Senoritas and peso's for the Amigos
Wherever the wind blows, you're sure to see those
Heavyweight hustlers that got the green
Chronic, snaps and bitches, the American Dream
Geah

Chorus...

Makes me want to throw my hands up and holler
It all seems like a dream
How we gettin the cream and still in Impalas, c'mon
If you gots the time, then I gots the time
Best not be that bitch dropped dime
Stops my money flow, where's my money, hoe?
Out the door, watch the pimp with the gangsta limp
Limo rides, westside, I keep it crackin
Thousand dollar suits while the Gators keep snappin
Bird flies in, top dollar bitches to stab
Sets up nice on Boom Bam ab
Makes me laugh sometimes... ha-ha
Fine bitches and money makes me do the cha cha
Ooh-lah-lah, 'cross the board money to spend
Open the door, bitch, get in

Chorus...

My nigga Muggs one time, c'mon
Geah
Ya know how we do, ya know how we do
Come on, get down like you live, get down like you live
Geah


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Got Cha Humpin'" as written by Aaron Bernard Tyler A Tyler

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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Got Cha Humpin' song meanings
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