Lyrics:
one night Mrs. Stacey went off the job
When she felt someone grab her whole face and said not to talk
But Stacey knew it was Bob and said knock it
Already,
Know what I'm sayin' this Birdman and this how it's goin' down,
That little youngin' Yo Gotti I certified him stamped approval
I'm pretty sure her phone wouldn't be answered by no man"
Mr. Telephone Man
There's something wrong with my line
When I dial my baby's number I get
Yeah, yo
Call me Gunshot Mike or Mr Skeng
Check one-two-one man skitzed again
Dickhead you and a dickhead crew
Getting gassed up by your
tell you Mr.
By then it is too late
'Cause Mr. when you get there
They don't ask, they don't ask what you saved
All they'll want to know, Mr.
Is
Will you tell me somethin' Mr Lumberjack is it one for forward and three for back
Is it two for stop or four for go boy ask a whistle punk I don't know
couldn't get through
Could you just check the line
Just one more time if you can
I'm pretty sure her phone
Wouldn't be answered by no man
Mr. Telephone Man
I'm pretty sure her phone wouldn't be answered by no man"
Mr. Telephone Man
There's something wrong with my line
When I dial my baby's number I get
soon? (Ayy, ayy)
She said, "Mr. Hollywood, won't you come back soon? (Ayy, ayy)
She said, ooh
I just wanna lay right by your side
We don't gotta
I'm pretty sure her phone wouldn't be answered by no man"
Mr. Telephone Man
There's something wrong with my line
When I dial my baby's number I get
[Ja rule (fabolous)]
(we trin' to kill these niggas)
Yo
(yea, uh huh, yea)
We in the door now
(yea)
Holla, rule nigga, with the f-a-b-o haha,
to try to find another
For it ain't right that she should live alone
Mr., here's the bag with all my money
It won't last them long the way it goes
God
Ummah, Ummah, Ummah
S-A double-D-I-Q
Yo, he want to get involved with you
Mr. S-A double-D-I-Q
Yo, he want to get involved with you
Mr. S-A
Watch me
Jigga-man, ya heard? Boom boom boom
Brooklyn, ya heard? Boom boom booom
Compton
Gotti Gotti ya heard? Yo,
C'mon
You gotta, pop that
Young Gotti in the back seat fucked up cous'
Man it's a shame how my gang-gang-bang
No disrespect but, hey, we want thangs
In the lets see what quest
his luck
Mr. Tembo is on his way up the hill
With only this song to tell you how he feels
But to get there he will need a helping hand
It's where he is
(Ooh - ooh - ooh - ooh)
(It's Mr Brown) Mr Brown is a clown who rides to town in a coffin
(Well, here he comes) In the top is
Three rows on top
M-I-S-S-Y
Y-S-S-I-M, M-I-S-S-Y
M-I-S-S-Y
Y-S-S-I-M
Yo, Mr. D.J., play that one more time
So me and Missy Elliott can move we waistline, yo
Tell
waistline,
Yo, tell the guys don't waste we time,
Cause we under the ganja plus the red wine yo,
There a party over here and say its phat you know,
Let go
Yo fat lip man
Yo man they tryin' to run a power move on us man
Yo man
You got to tell the suckers what's up boy
Yeah ha-ha
I got a letter
Yo fat lip man
Yo man they tryin' to run a power move on us man
Yo man
You got to tell the suckers what's up boy
Yeah ha-ha
I got a letter
[verse 1]
First of all yo gotti represent every thug
Went to school graduated operated with drugs
Had knowledge went to college fucking bitches
stripper
That's gon' tell me that she don't dance
Tell me lies, make it sound good, make it sound good
Do me like the women from my town would
Leather
where my bitches at what?
Yo they don't want it
This is live nigga rap
Scared, get back nigga, but if not, it's cool
Cause right here is where it's
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