Lyrics:
the hand
Put them things up inthey (ugh) like a stake in the grass
I'm a real hot boy I'm shakin the deck
If you a real hot girl you can take it in half
Lil
a stone
To you my dear
* : Haitian Creole Word
*(1) My Mrs
*(2) i know
*(3) what quality you are
*(4) you never changed
*(5) you are always there by my
the land poppin' Xans, got withdrawals
Clasp my hands in advance 'cause they just can't get off
I've been given second chances
That shit like my motivation
Go by the name of Weezy F and
I'm walkin' out the Bally store with ten bags
Fly as a motherfucker girlie on my staple
Cause her friend say I
His hand went on my knee
I had to shake it free!
Go on, go on, go on, go on now!
I say it idn't fair! He likes 'em young and small
I saw his
folks
Wait, this the king that u voted for?
Mr. grab by the puss
Who u voted 4?
Some very fine people
You done voted for
I got a lil news flash
For you
a bitch
I don't got no lil bag
Cause I don't like that shit
Moving through events like we Lil Baby on a private jet
Grew up having dreams
Now I'm in it, I
Intro: Bizzy
Yeah [laughs]
Bone Thug in this mutha whaa whaa whaa
Yeah Big Wish in this muthafucka what's up my nigga and
Lil Lay I love you nigga
Hey Mr. mr can you tell me what’s wrong
I’ve heard you’ve got the answers can you listen to my song
Sometimes its hard to dream when you’re told that
on here?
KEATING: I don't hear enough rips!
McALLISTER: Mr keating
KEATING mr mcAllister
McALLISTER
I'm sorry i - I didn't know you were here
KEATING i
after ricoshaying off the tree
route, and ther?s a look of pain on the Champion?
s face. He is shaking his hands as if to say I did
not have a strong
know how this shit go, nigga
101
Speak up, leak
Mr. Big, G-G, something like Mr. Wallace
In Brooklyn, NYC, trying to scope me out a scholar
I ain't
Written by: John Duarte, Mark Paul
Mr. Mambo (repeat)
I've been waiting for the weekend
To go out and have some fun
Well the stars shine just like
My Hood, Niggas Think I'm Getting By
I Pull Up, Break Them Bitches Down Then Sell ‘Em
Niggas Eye Balling Whole Pounds, Then Mail ‘Em
Big Kush Bag In My
you say
Mrs. Officer, Mrs. Officer
Tell your lieutenant get them cuffs off of ya
I'm Kidd Kidd, my face on every wanted poster
I'm wanted by every
Excuse me lil' miss can you be my Mrs.
I'm just a nigga from the Rock can you dig it
Seen you on the 'gram glad you not catfishing
Shoot my shot like I
been doing this shit for years, give my name some damn respect
Ian tripping off no broke, these n***** flodging, they some peasants
And I go by Mr
I’m the realist nigga outta Buffalo since McDoo
Walk up on me and I’ll show you what that mac a do
Load it, cock it, bang it on u like Shaq would do
and Baka bossed up, you know how bosses do
Leave my hands dirty, I'ma bury that nigga
Live by the gun, you gon' be first, lil' nigga
Finger on the trigger,
ready fi this
Mr. Lover keep yuh rockin di beat
[Chorus]
I said hey (Hey) you (You) standin over there by that wall
Get (Get) up (Up) do your thing
a lil' nothin'
As I showcase my skills for real
[Hook x2]
There's a party over here, a party over there
A party everywhere...put ya hands up
sucker
Don't go below the navel
I'm up in Lil' Hatti
I'm blowin' on Jamaica
I'm in the pimper beemer
I'm with a salt shaker
Now I'm in Dade County
I see
sucker
Don't go below the navel
I'm up in Lil' Hatti
I'm blowin' on Jamaica
I'm in the pimper beemer
I'm with a salt shaker
Now I'm in Dade County
I see
sucker
Don't go below the navel
I'm up in Lil' Hatti
I'm blowin' on Jamaica
I'm in the pimper beemer
I'm with a salt shaker
Now I'm in Dade County
I see
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