Search results for be my private dancer spin remix by 2 live crew

We've found 56 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching be my private dancer spin remix by 2 live crew:


Albums:

Little Wheel Spin and Spin (Buffy Sainte-Marie) · Private Dancer [30th Anniversary Edition] (Tina Turner) · Private Dancer: The Tina Turner Story (Gary Tesca) · Private Dancer [Video] (Tina Turner) · Private Dancer (Tina Turner) · Private Dancer (Tina Turner) · Private Dancer (Tina Turner) · Private Dancer (Lizzy Mercier Descloux) · Private Dancer (Tina Turner) · 2 Live Crew's Greatest Hits (2 Live Crew) – and 90 other albums »


TVs, plush leather livin comfortably
And my own private dancers to keep my dick up
Two big niggas for my pick ups, ready to do my stick ups
Two
and ballplayers
Singers dancers and rhyme sayers

Why do us like you do
Ska doo
Fuck da residue
Frustrated 5 on 2s
No breaks for madd crews
Nowwho the fuck is you
Frustrated five on twos
No breaks for mad crews
Now who the fuck is you
Sick a you

Community hoesis
Who posin' as Moses
In street clothist
Who be
Smackin' suckas silly, a remix
Take two thousand, and seven, or is that eight
(Hanna Barbara)

[Chorus]
Well it's one two three of us, never
met one
Now spin the Wheel of Fortunes or be wise and stay back
Co-host my show, like Pat and don't Sa-jak shit
or get ate like oats and barley
Save
the mic I hold
I make sure my beats are loud, and bold, and cold
Violent J is the name that I go by
Wakin up with blood on my hands and I don't know why
You
to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is lounging
Celebrating every day, no more public housing
Thinking back on my one-room shack
Now my
to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is lounging
Celebrating every day, no more public housing
Thinking back on my one-room shack
Now my
Hangin pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock til my tape popped
Smokin weed and Bambu, sippin on Private
this bitch
Matter fact, I be the best in this shit
Put me on your next remix
Now count the spins that you get (Uh-huh)
See shit get crazy dogg
I'm takin'
Hangin pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock til my tape popped
Smokin weed and Bambu, sippin on Private
the boogie
I be loyal to my peeps
Like budha stud doogie

Never very bad news
Payin' crazy dues
I'm blowin' out crews
And tamin' mad shrews

Like Bill
Never make my enemy public
I'm a private dancer
Dancing for money
(Let's get together, let's rock!)

D-d-d-d-dance Monkey
Dance you god damn Monkey
Do
to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is lounging
Celebrating every day, no more public housing
Thinking back on my one-room shack
Now my
to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is lounging
Celebrating every day, no more public housing
Thinking back on my one-room shack
Now my
But deep in my heart, this is "No Way Out II" (let's rock)
I spend absurd money, private bird money
That Bill Gates, Donald Trump, Bloomberg money
badgering emcees with my dialect
When I inject memory cell motors retrospect
To recollect; too genuine skills I resurrect
Directed live from the 2-1-2
out, or in this case the dough
Roll with the blow till considered a hoe
Babies are born and pawned off to grandmama
The bitch ain't done, she still lives
the dawny(?)
Hard, we live too, just like the 2 Live Crew, me so horny
'cause I'm a choosy thug, you get your booty hugged
Face down, ass up, don't stop, gitty
Nammen uncommon 
Doubt monkey polish
My twenty-three’s lean over a cobra motor milligram bender 
Book novelty 
A tip lives prior to clippin'
to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is lounging
Celebrating every day, no more public housing
Thinking back on my one-room shack
Now my
a fat Lex'
Puff rhymin' on the remix, what's next?
It hurts so bad, I wanna smack 'em
My favorite crew members break up
Turn around and join whack
you found out the livest sound out but sort out 
That be mine, your shit wasn't thought out 

Chorus 2x 

And now you want it every five minutes....
you found out the livest sound out but sort out 
That be mine, your shit wasn't thought out 

Chorus 2x 

And now you want it every five minutes....
badgering emcees with my dialect

When I inject memory cell motors retrospect
To recollect; too genuine skills I resurrect
Directed live from the 2-1-2