Lyrics:
{"Testify!"}
[Styles P:]
Time I testify, listen
Why Malcolm get killed by the N.O.I.?
I'm yellow but I'm dark for real
And why nobody flip when
niggas
[Lil Jon:]
I wish a mutha fucker would say something
Fuck around and get your goddamn ass whooped
Nigga I feel like startin some shit,
and I
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
Huh? oh yeah
Huh? oh yeah
Pour me up a four in a Fanta
Then I flip that Fanta upside down
Pour me up a four in a Fanta
Then I flip that motherfucker
life
You need a baller, I'm a baller your type
You need a playa, that's what I is fo' life
[Lil' Flip]
24's on the coupe when I roll by, four guns on my
up out the Audi and I'm
Ridin' shit just like a
I taught you how to finesse, man
Call me Mr flip
If he's asking for some smoke give
Him a pack
the click! whooooo
[Verse One: Lil' Kim ]
Blessed by the God so I be the Earths
Queen Bee Bitch Poppa keep my rich
In gun tottin' keep floatin' in
it, why the psych can't do it?
Jimmy Swaggart did it, why the psych can't do it?
Lil Rick did it, why the psych can't do it?
Smoke a dip, flip
Kid Ice, and Mr. Mixx.
We're players from way back. We used to mutt out hoes together
and everything, why' know. But uh, my lil' thangs jumped off
and Smif-N-Wessun
Pick up the pace 'cause we're right behind ya black
The punk got X-amount of shots, take one to your back
BOO-YAA-KAA!!! Mr. Ripper did
Mileton between Clarion and Wilistry
we shot ball on crates tryna get paid by all means
started snatchin purses by Wall Greens
seen Titey get hit up in
phones, dirty dancing, mr jones
Sees a life she might've lost, couldn't help but notice
She don't wear the same clothes she used to, she used to
She don't
order
Filthy hit recorder, wipe or Ricky mixed with Ricky Porter
Butchie Jones mixed with Mr. Combs with the Tookie aura
I'm a muh'fucker, no really I
[Intro- Lil' Flip]
You know how we do it man
Ain't to many people ballin like us man
I go by the name Lil' Flip
I'm in here with my dog Roy Jones
on a Yacht-I got the pot you got the chicken fried steak
I can't even hear you haters you've been muted by my paper chase
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Lil' Flip
Lorenz
Tryna get back to that real world like I'm fucking Miz
Call me Mr.Wick I get ya candle lit
Can you stop all the lying you flip mattresses
Who that?
game was over like I'm Lil' Flip (Flip)
Sometimes I'm wishing that my brain came with a kill switch
I don't vacation, dawg, I guilt trip, real shit,
the game
I hit the streets fans run up to me and tell me that that I'm runnin thangs
Mike Jones, Slim Thug, Lil Keke we be valetin in v.i.p sippin henessy
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
up
Bih, say, JONE$, what's the ticket? I say, cost too much
Bih, say, JONE$, what you do? I don't do too much
Bih, say, JONE$, what you, I'm like,
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
things going down
Aye, aye, they scream loud
Aye, aye, girls gone wild
uh
Make that body flip
John Gotti shit
Have you by the wrist
Shawty shaking ass
Man
picture
Studying the word
Covered in scripture
Come a long way making a pack flip
Making it stretch mr elastic
Serving the lord feeling fantastic
Incredible
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