Anything You Want Songtext
von Tairrie B.

Soul sisters, we′ve been goin' for long enough
The boys think we don′t know how to get down
Let 'em have a meeting
Girls, let 'em have a meeting


Here we go on the flow, I got some suckers on the ill tip
So I suppose I′ll have to straighten this up real quick
Gimme that microphone and get lost
Who′s takin' over? The female mob boss
I′m strollin' on punks like they ain′t shit
'Cause I′m legit and down with the Syndicate
But this is a Comptown hit, so it's Ruthless
And thinkin' you can get with this is useless
I′m Tairrie B, I got this one for a purpose
Suckers tryin′ to step 'cause they see what′s on the surface
But I'll pull your cards and we′ll see who's got the hardest
It′s not the color, it's the heart of the artist
And you can't ignore the woman who will roar
So look more close, notice the hardcore
Style, scope the dope profile
It′s in a while, child, it′s all compiled
Like a text, and the next to flex will get waxed
Into nothin' but a pile of melted tracks
Schoolly, break it on down from the East Coast
And let′s stone-cold toast


Now Schoolly's got the music, and me, I got the lyrical
Eazy′s by my side, makin' sure that the spirit goes
Into the show, and so the whole thing kicks
Echo Sound is where we mix
Eazy-E′s on the set and I'm removin' all doubt
That a Ruthless bitch has just stepped out
Of Comptown into the open, ′cause she′s dopin'
All the boys in the hood, and they′re hopin'
They can get with me, like when you saw my cover
And stepped up to me, tryin′ to be my lover
But that ain't happenin′, no, 'cause I ain't with it
You tried to play, to be close, then you bit it
This style is so wild, boy, you can′t handle it
And if you try, I don′t need a man to get
Stupid for me, I'll do just fine on my own
Gimme a microphone
And I′ll rip up the system, steal the show
A girl gets out of hand and I'll smack the ho
So for those who thought I couldn′t do this
Yo, Tairrie (What?) Show 'em who′s Ruthless

Now the cap I wear reads Comptown on it
Y'all can't read or somethin′, shit
So a brother stepped up talkin′ all kind of junk
(Bitch, you ain't from Compton) Shut the fuck up, punk
And pay your respects to the Queen of Comptown
Punks talkin′ junk are the punks I stomp down
Heel to toe, in steel-toe boots
Platinum blonde with Italian roots
Clever with rhymin', forever like diamonds
You sleep while I creep, so I keep climbin′
Higher, object of your desire
Always draped in the flyest attire
Damage is done and you can bet that I did it
With finesse in a dress that's perfectly fitted
When I juice my hitlist, you can′t get with this
Female Caucasian, can I get a witness? (Yeah)
I know you heard it before, I won't bore ya
Yo, Compton, am I white and I fooled ya?

Yo, Eazy
What's up, Tairrie?
Yo, everybody thinks that I′m rockin′
You and that's why I got a record deal
Fuck no, she won′t even give me the pussy
Word