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Jazze Pha

Phalon Anton Alexander (born 1974), also known as Jazze Pha ( /ˌdʒæzi ˈfeɪ/ JAZ-ee FAY), is an American record producer. He is the son of James Alexander, a bassist for the R&B musical group The Bar-Kays. more »

Year:

2004

3:59

110 Views

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Ladies and gentlemen! 
Ladies and gentlemen!
This, is truly an event
Nelly Nel, Jazze Phizzle, Jazz Phiza-fel
(Na-nana-na, nana, nana, nana) Woooo-eee
(Na-nana-na, nana, nana, nana) Woo, woo, woo, oh boy
(Na-nana-na, nana, nana, nana) Oh boy, oh
Hey, hey hey hey hey hey hey

[Chorus]
Well uh-huh, well uh-huh girl I'm parked outside
And you know that it's sittin' on chrome, chrome (Uh-huh)
Hey, I'm just lookin' for a pretty young thing
That uh, I can take home (take home)
Can we leave here (Yeah), can we leave here (Yeah)
Can we leave here (Yeah), can we leave here, shorty can we
Leave here (Yeah), can we leave here (Yeah)
Can we leave here (Yeah), can we leave here (Yeah)

I'm throwing nuggets out the fellow I push to Carmelo
Yellow on yellow flooded the band and the bezel
Hear me now! Oh, no, did you see the hue
I took the Phantom to the Opera, same van roll through the ghetto
Can we leave hurr
Shorty need to make up her mind
I seen them niggaz over there, but they ain't takin' my shine
Got seven niggaz tryin' to be me, out here breakin' they spine
But they got seven different levels for they minions to mind
I want you both shorty (Oh) go get it crunk shorty (Oh)
I see your A-T-L stamp and go 'head and stomp shorty (Oh)
I got that shake now, and don't be scared now
Cause we can come from the kitchen up to that bed now
Shit it ain't nuttin' to a boss, I heat you like air off
It ain't nothing', they ain't cuttin', they frontin', that's they loss
Cause the, 'Tics is good, and the van is paid off
And I done got so damn cocky I took that Band-Aid off

[Chorus]

picture perfect, I paint a perfect picture
Third album, same focus, my intent is to get richer
I'm with my dirty Jazze Phizzle, he yieldin' that instrumental
Yous a cold-ass nigga on the track (Sho' nuff)
Man, I'm tired of poppin' these bottles, tired of fuckin' these models
I'm tired of these menage-a nights, yeah right (Psych!)
I was built for it, I got hip for it
I even got a little swagger in my limp for it
I done had, sex in the city plus sex in the country
You know, sex in the zoo directly behind the monkeys
Hold up! Don't get me wrong, I'm lookin' for Ms. Right
But tonight ain't the time, I'm lookin' for right now
It's two-thousand-fo', I'm in a new home
Threw out the Bentley bought a Double R and kissin' doors
It's like I'm holdin' on to permanent mistletoe, I think you been sittin' low
I got a driver dirty, he come when the whistle blow

[Chorus]

(Na-nana-na) I'm smoother than you know
(Na-nana-na) Cadillac do's and bank rolls
(Na-nana-na) I simply go places you can't go
Ain't see me in no Linc', but you know that dirty in Brougham
I be on my (Grind-na-grind-na-grind-na-grind)
With my money on my (Mind-my-mind-my-mind-my-mind)
Plus I'm still in my (Prime-my-prime-my-prime-my-prime)
And we be smokin' that

[Chorus]

(Na-nana-na, nana, nana, nana)
(Na-nana-na, nana, nana, nana)

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