Yo-Ho-Ho

Yo, Coolio on deck for the two triple

Polar bear in the house, check it. Biatch!

This goes out to all my thief niggas, my boxer and brief niggas

My cheat niggas, my quick to put you to sleep niggas

My hood rats, my get up and go getters

My gold diggers, my single parent family bread winners (what)

My sinners, my ex-lovers, my ex-partners

And my homeys that showed me love when I was rolling in a Datsun

I gotta have one for the haters

For bringing all the players, and the hustlers, and the gangsters

Tell them all I said thank you

And have a drink on me and when you think on me

You better think on real, I give you something you can feel

The panhandlers, the pill pushers, the ???panty weighters???

My down homeys, the clown busters, my never fakers

My real family, the ones that gave me 21 knowledge bro

When Coolio lo what nothing but a prayer and a hope

Come one come all y'all, but let's get one thing clear

There's a party going on in here

Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of Jag, there's a party over here

Go and get you a frank, and a fat ass sack and a cold Olde English beer

Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of Jag, there's a party over here

Go and get you a frank, and a fat ass sack and a cold Olde English beer

I'm spitting game at the bank robbers, the bus driver, the butcher

The guinness at the Lou Guinness school superintendent

The creatures, and pimping hoes and neighborhood preachers

To those that've never heard of me, I'm trying to reach you

My crew niggas, my ready to act the fool niggas

My big balling homeys on a mission to cop figures

My scrap honey, going to school trying have some with that

Big round brown to keep the homeys heart pumping

The real ladies, that take care of their own babies

The po-po and politicians that ain't playing their game shady

My cap dealers, my penitentiary niggas

Even them, cold ass sharks that's swimming in the music business

The pre-schoolers, the senior citizens, the mailman

The speaker of the house, the paperboy, the president

Come one come all y'all, but have no fear

There's a party going on in here

Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of Jag, there's a party over here

Go and get you a frank, and a fat ass sack and a cold Olde English beer

Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of Jag, there's a party over here

Go and get you a frank, and a fat ass sack and a cold Olde English beer

Since the far off days, when man first heard some scratchy noises on a cylindrical drum, it has been his aim to add breadth and depth and even where it applies, to come play act the fool

I want to speak upon the little homeys

That was raised in the projects

That could've been anything but was forced to join an offset

The homegirls, that had babies at a young age

Only 22 but you know they've seen better days

And my smoker niggas, that got stuck on a crack pipe

And them, hollywood types that's living that fast life

This them act right, and flip your game like a jack knife

All my rapper niggas who did their time at the good life

My honest homeys, flipping burgers at Mickey Dees

Fuck what they talking about, love, go ahead and get your g's

My enemies, please dissipate with all haste

I got homeys with heat in the house, you got 5 minutes grace

All my loves in Japan, Germany, and Amsterdam

London and Compton, Long Beach, Wats, LA and Carson

When I die y'all, better not shed no tears

Just keep the party going on in here

Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of Jag, there's a party over here

Go and get you a frank, and a fat ass sack and a cold Olde English beer

Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of Jag, there's a party over here

Go and get you a frank, and a fat ass sack and a cold Olde English beer