Lyrics:
love it when you call me Big Poppa!
Papa's got a brand new bag
And if you don't know, now you know, na ()
Straight up, honey, really I'm askin'
Most
he makes the party Boing, Boing
Bob Digi makes the party Boing, Boing
[Mr. Tibbs]
I'm a country man at heart but a city man by nature
'cause even
to em sonic
Local artists they hate but we staying up on it
Get straight to the point they run circles like sonic
Fucking with the real ones out of South
you got a *** up in your waist please don't shoot up the place, why?
'Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby, baby, uh
Straight
(why?)
'Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby, baby
Straight up honey really I'm askin'
Most of these niggas think they be
Written by Bob Welch.
Goin' in a straight line all night
Finally come to that house on the right
Parked out in the front is somebody's Benz
She's
see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby, baby
Straight up honey really I'm askin'
Most of these niggas think they be mackin' but they be
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by
see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby, baby
Straight up honey really I'm askin'
Most of these niggas think they be mackin' but they be
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by
Hook:2x
This gone make ya bob ya head & groove & this gone lift ya spirits up that's true & this gone make ya wanna 2 step & move said this gone be
really ‘gotta ask
Let me count it up, ‘ion even see the math, I anticipate the moment it's a thing of the past
For me to get by, I really wish that I could
the kicks straight chilling
Slow down
Take a breath
Wait a minute
That
F double L got a nigga fitted
I just
Roll around with my villains
Sponge Bob socks
Out
the paneled windows open. A cold chill fills
the room, something runs up my spine, bumps jump all over my
head and my hair shoots straight up with
not gassed up
I swear I won't tax you
I swear opps won't slide thru
Bitch I won't spill my juice
You know me way to welch
Don't think your wave gone
par
I been drinking Christmas
That’s green and Wock' mixed up
All star on electric Tesla, I'm on
I ran that shit right up
I had four cars and I didn’t
on me no Mike Vick
I bob and weave in that pussy good and I knock it out like Tyson
Say first round, face down, ass up, straight pound
Yeah, shorty, she
sucked a nigga soul
Addicted to bands I ain't going back broke
Got to get straight to the money you know how we coming I run up a check every week
I got
the kid gon' say, yeah
This the price
I'm hardly sorry
I'm okay
Bitch, I'm okay
Bitch, my head straight
Yeah, I'm breaking down the stress
And we calling up
How 'bout we hit the club and
Walk up straight through VIP
How 'bout we get some Puerto
Rican girls and Japanese
How 'bout we get some strippers
Yeah I got that thing tucked don't become a bystander
Feel like Bob the Builder with my hammer
That red light mean, I'm recording with my camera
flapped long ears and didn't brush up by day
Got his long ears whittled and his old hid scorched in a most artistic way
Now one fine day old Sandy Bob he
shout-out to Bob at the Rockline
A big shout-out to Bob at the Rockline
You got it live straight from Jacksonville
Limp Bizkit on the mic, punk
the kitchen
Like I'm about to whip some grits up
Excuse me
Blessed like I'm sneezing
I chance up 4 time like the seasons
My neck my arms
Straight gleaming
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