Lyrics:
check and wallet
Hand bag and pocket book purse and make-up kit
In a woman bag him thief a lipstick
In a dread locks jacket him thief a chew stick
pocket book
Giving you away like motel matches
I wake with the siren in an emergency
Though your mind is full of love
In your eyes there is a vacancy
she don't care
She'll open up her pocket book and pay my fare
I know she loves me, up, down, high or low
Well, I love my baby, gonna tell everybody I
she don't care
She'll open up her pocket book and pay my fare
I know she loves me, up, down, high or low
Well, I love my baby, gonna tell everybody I
fuckin’ with my pocket book
Bullshit
This is not a 501c3
I don’t run a charity
Bitch take care of me
I’m just tryna get my check
I’m just tryna get my check
just using them and they’re just using me
Now I’m looking for love
I’ve got a mansion on the hill
And a pocket book packed to the hilt
Up in my 59
a ticket I'mma go and book it
Book it, book it
Book it, book it
I'mma go and book it
Big dollars in my pocket, got me sittin' crooked
A hundred racks in my
yeah)
I hit from the side like a hook
Kool-aid pack got these lil' niggas shook (ay)
School everyday got my pockets on books (got my pockets on my
more empty pockets in my camos then a fuckin pocket book
Whoa
Told me turn around shit I rather look
Radio
12 Ian have a cell phone wanna ball I was
of all evil?
Yeah my pocket got the answer
Yeah my pocket got the water
Pocket book come take a gander
Niggas want it for the low
The cost gon grow
Just
your pocket book, watch your pockets
Watch everybody on the train, watch everybody on the bus
'Cause we gonna get you whether you like it or not
and I bought a pound of smoked sturgeon and I had that in a little bag.
It was in a pocket book, The Sturgeon, and the other fish was in a pocket book
on her wrist
Pocket book, but ain't no cents
Never calling her a bitch
Diamond, rubies on her lips
Reach up in her bag
She got a knocka wit a switch
Other
Im smoking weed just like a Rasta mon
(Ahhhhhh)
She keep my dope inside her pocket book
(Woahhhh)
The chef is cooking asking what you want
(ahhhhhh)
Our thoughts and our lives
Controlled by pocket books.
Of rich politicians. Like a rich Daddy Warbux,
They pay for the deaths of those who speak
Many people look through their wallet or their pocket books and, way down at the bottom, past the
credit cards and baby pictures and so on, you
Big, well let's rock
Saw her neck and pocket book checking
Break out the cup with your henchmen
Start the indo digestion
Yo, you can't rap style on rap's
poles swing
not to mention the meaning of contemporary things
we're chasing the feeling that our money can't buy
our pocket books empty but we're ready
Many people look through their wallet or their pocket books and, way down at the bottom, past the credit cards and baby pictures and so on, you
bank book haaunted
We pocket dem hauunted
Wah we bank book haaauntedd
Ghetto yutes wah...
Hauted pockets full a dead presidents
Hauted pockets full
So I searched through my pocket book
I couldn't find it
So I sat and concentrated on the number
And slowly it came to me
So I dialed it
And I
a mighty crazy cooking way to go
I've got great big blisters on my fingertips
From reaching in my pocket book and picking out the bills
And I got tiny
And that's the truth
No you can't buy your way out of the blues
My pocket book is empty
But I'm still fellin' bad
I might as weel admit it
Your the last
a helping hand
I?m on my way from Frisco
Goin? back to Dixie Land
My pocket book is empty and my
Heart is filled with pain
I?m a 1000 miles away from home
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