Lyrics:
quick cast
the whole night and I stop floss
In a the tight charts
Me wanna touching all the right parts
Make ya get tight ass
See your body from afar,
folllllllllll-ow
My heart, and if you follow the charts, to the plaques or the stacks
You ain't gotta guess who's back, you see
I'm so shy that you thought it was
the corner with smoke comin'
From up under us like we sittin' in the sauna
Burnin' up the charts, break a bitch off hard
Little mama don't you start
this cain't be goin' on
How come E and Short get to stay in the game?
Don't ever talk down on a player's name
So when you see us on top of every chart
new coffin, you bled on it
These New Orleans no competition
Top of the charts, no top of the menu
That ain't art, nigga, drop the pencil
She drop
the game?
Don't ever talk down on a player's name
So when you see us on top of every chart
You know we been number one since the very start
We feed
know the game you'll forget my name I won't be here in another year
If I don't stay on the charts
I am the entertainer had to pay my price
Things I
against the Wu-Tang henchmen
Perfect precision marksman
Spit darts and flip charts, and
Archery shots aimed at your heart then
Daffy Duckest will
Sell your soul to the company
Who are waiting there to sell plastic ware
And in a week or two if you make the charts
The girls'll tear you apart
Bad Boy heat the place
We run R&B too cuz we keep the faith
Givin the streets a taste
Blaze the charts
I remember
In case you forgot
comes from the heart
I'll give 'em that
I'll give 'em this
I'll strut away
Boy! You can't miss!
Just put a star on my chart
they won't need this
comes from the heart
I'll give 'em that
I'll give 'em this
I'll strut away
Boy! You can't miss!
Just put a star on my chart
they won't need this
the cool-a** rhymes
The cool-a** rhymes, some cool-a** rhymes
Some cool-a** rhymes
[Chorus x2]
My job is to mainly hypnotize
I'm a take over the charts
cassette
Hey! The last thing he'd expect in his bar
Gonna chart the rise of my star
Life is wild life is free
Make him want to stop, gonna fall on me
these charts like Zorro Blade
So hot your gonna need a cold glass of lemonade
To all my real live niggas, that shoot dice and play spades
In a nice
my feet are made of sand
But till that time I'll tell you lies and chart the hidden boundrys of your eyes
Some day the world I used to know will come
But now chart topping in a car I ain't got
I am the number one customer at my own car lot
You want to know how much money I'm makin' just imagine
Even if the paragraphs, didn't hit the charts and smash
If my car was a train on the surface or back
I think you'd be right there (know you'll be right
all of the suckers around
Puttin' fear in the heart, at the top of the chart
Stunning gunning and funning, cause Run's running this art
DJ's facing
the chart
These ducks tryin' to prove that you got the art
Better move better move better do your part
Get busy, get a job, stop messin' around
Say isn't
arch
Doctor's office was the last time that you niggas even had your name on a chart
Shawty graduated, playin' it smart (ayy, yeah)
Used to be
my pen and pad
Ghostwriters, they get to floss what you could've had
Record label takin' a loss, are you in your bag?
You a worker wantin' to chart
climbing up the charts, so sick, but they tried to clown
That's why they ride the bandwagon still be draggin' sellin' lies
Don't think I don't see you
find another man
And lead him directly there to the source
You've got to chart his course
[Chorus]
Cause it is only in your heart
This thing that
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