Digital Underground Wussup Wit the Luv Lyrics

The Body-Hat Syndrome Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 The Return of the Crazy One
  • 2 Doo Woo You
  • 3 Holly Wanstaho
  • 4 Bran Nu Swetta
  • 5 The Humpty Dance Awards
  • 6 Body-Hats, Part 1
  • 7 Dope-A-Delic (Do-U-B-Leeve-In-D-Flo?)
  • 8 Intermission
  • 9 Wussup Wit the Luv
  • 10 Digital Lover
  • 11 Carry the Way (Along Time)
  • 12 Body-Hats, Part 2
  • 13 Circus Entrance
  • 14 Jerkit Circus
  • 15 Circus Exit (The After-Nut)
  • 16 Shake & Bake
  • 17 Body-Hats, Part 3
  • 18 Do Ya Like It Dirty
  • 19 Bran Nu Sweat This Beat
  • 20 Wheee!
  • Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?
    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?

    Now, men want racism, black folks in prison, me bar
    What's goin' on with the luh-uh-ove?
    Boo-ya-kaw is the sound, brothers goin' down in the worst way
    I got my son a gun for his birthday

    Now we've had enough, everybody wants to be tough
    But I give the props to brothers on my level
    Instead of trying to be above
    'Cause I see nothin' feminine about givin' your brother some love

    Look deeply in each other's eyes, you know we are the ones
    Racism is a cloud that blocks us from the sun
    One brother speaks in African, one sings Jamaican songs
    Both of them are black men, but they still can't get along

    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?
    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?
    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?
    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?

    Mommy and Daddy they got married, they make love every night
    But Momma's gettin' tired, and Poppa hits the pipe at night
    I see 'em kissin' wishin' I got the props that Pops, I mean the rocks, got
    I hope she hugs me, 'cause she never dug me

    I figure still I hustle, tussle with the fool at school
    The one that Momma sold my sneakers, thought she says he's freakin' her
    Had the doubt until I caught 'em, then I fought 'em, then she slapped me
    Hollered at me talkin' 'bout I messed up her ten dollars

    Goddamn! Drug dealers dealin' to the kiddies
    Livin' in the city ain't no pity on the itty-bitty
    We try to cry, but still they all die
    I try to speak to the youth, and the truth is they all high

    What can I say but watch your back, youngster
    As I sit and wonder, my other brother's steadily goin' under
    It's like a curse, and it hurts 'cause it's worse
    Momma's crazy 'cause her baby's in a hearse
    Wussup wit the love?

    This land once owned by Indians, who then would learn to burn
    A tragedy, because from them there was so much to learn
    You will find the key to life is checking for you friends
    Everything's gonna be alright
    I got to let you know that I'm in love with you

    (Dope fiends sellin' their babies)
    I'm so in love with you
    (I know man, you can't even say 'what's up' to a brother no more)
    People, I'm in love with you
    (Fool talkin' about 'what's up', fool don't know me man)

    Yes I'm in love with you
    (I put one in him! Hey, yo, you got your thang?)
    Yeah, man, I'm strapped let's go hit 'em

    It blows my mind to see so many people sufferin'
    (So many people)
    It blows my mind to see so many people down
    (Everybody's down)

    And I just can't understand, why there must be such fighting
    (Everybody's acting crazy)
    It blows my mind to see the pain that's all around
    (The pain that's all around)

    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?
    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?
    Wussup wit the love, wussup wit the love?

    Written by: Cleveland Askew, Gregory E. Jacobs, Michael W. Hampton, Ronald R. Brooks, Tupac Amaru Shakur
    Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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