Lyrics:
gold
And maybe get rich, hol' up
Trinidad Jame$ in four weeks but now my album platinum and shit, so what?
Y'all keep the numbers
I'm more than
to be music that did it
But then again times have changed man, who are we kiddin'?
I'm managed by my friends that I grew up with
I'd rather give that
really blame you? (Who can really blame you?)
We're the ones who made you
Ahem, back by popular demand
Now pop a little Zantac for antacid if you can
tell me
In the back seat, you can lick and blow
Affiliated wit' the niggas in the cut
Tell 'em voodoo, that's what's up
[Hook, R. Kelly]
Lookin' for
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
independent, can't touch me kids
Split your wig then hire Cochran, like Puffy did
(fiesta) fiesta, like my name R. Kelly
I'm the boss see the cross, hanging
to a threesome, yeah (yeah)
Fuck with my name could be fatal (oh-oh)
None of my niggas are stable (yeah)
They turn a crown to a halo (halo)
They roll through
were meant
Numbers in my back account keep adding up like royalty
But so are all the reasons why I feel like I can never sleep
3 albums ain't enough
See
a personal
Exile, but exile to come back and
Deliver my magnum opus of
A work, and to be outshined…to
Be beat by a girl, basically
This was necessary i think
doesn't tell ya
You set a mark too high when platinum sales are looked at as a failure
Then you better take it back to the shelter
And Hamburger Helper,
Yeah, nigga
I'm still fuckin' with ya
Still waters run deep
Still Snoop Dogg and D.R.E.
'99, nigga, guess who's back
Still, still doin' that
did the first one
Five album run, now the cursed one, it's a blessed one
By the time y'all hear this, we be half way through the next one
Bless up
smell, where's your diaper? Shit, here
Lay on your back, don't pee right now or else I'll have to get you back
One day when you gon' want to get your way
Gretchen von Ivan
Go-kart rushin' to finish their album then you find them
Lost, dog paddling, back stroking, what done happened?
Be rhymin' catching
[Chorus:]
Girl let me see your body go la la
Now back that thing up and make it go boomba
The way you windin' it girl don't stop
Come on baby
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
to give y'all a preview
But I can't give you the full
Thing 'cause you know that
That's album material and
Album's called "KellyVision"
That's coming soon,
di booty like a pro
(Back it up) Mek Kelly go so whooa
She mek di richter scale mek yuh head point oh
Like Christina Milian yuh fi dip it low
(Forget
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
there's whites, separated by the green
After five hundred years, think we play for the same team
Smokescreen, make the president a black guy
It ain't no
from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
uh, uh, Memph Bleek in the house
An undercover on the dubba always trying to charge a brotha
Call me late night, spark a Philly
are-Kelly, I jack the brother
Comin' from the (?) Memphis
I trust that everyone is enjoying the music
As the title of the album suggests
This was meant for your listening pleasure
While you are being done
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