Lyrics:
you're soakin' in your seat
It's not a fluke, it's been tried, I'm the truth
Since, "Turn Out the Lights" from the World Class Wreckin Cru
I'm still
your son," girl, don't trip about it
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, don't give me lip about it
Too late, too late, too late, too late
London boys are gazing as the girls go hand in hand
With a pocket full of innocence, their entrance is grand
turned out once
guess you learned ain't no future with them burnt out stunts
Left the hood to get your own thing
with home team
Pushin through watchin
down on a day like this?
The evening comes and we?re hanging out,
On the front step, and a car rolls by with the windows rolled down,
And that
the tour
Oh, that's your new girl, that's that mid-grade
Buck-fifty on your face with the switch blade
Or the razor, yeah, the razor
She my son, yeah,
boys with their hand in the air
Screamin' Too $hort just don't stop!
Like Royal Park, like Plymouth Rock
First street and Sunnyside
Like Sobrante
necklace
Bitches that we came with got all of your bitches jealous
'Bout to leave the crib with a couple of my pirates
Driving by the streets we used
the tour
Oh, that's your new girl, that's that mid-grade
Buck-fifty on your face with the switch blade
Or the razor, yeah, the razor
She my son, yeah,
raise some hell, gonna make some noise
If you want a bad boy
Want a bad boy
Well I'll be out by your driveway when your mom and dad lay down
You can
don't really give a shit, I represent the real cats who know me
Man, what's up with that scratch you owe me?
Now run my chips before we fall out like
the stars align
Boy and girl meet by the great design
Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?
Everybody told me love was blind
Then I saw your
spring summer and fall
Now lots of folks claim
A monkey man of dark colour
Is really gone crazy
By a real hot yellow
Now a yellow boys
That ain't all
holla at your boy
You can spend the night, we at the Elroy
Doing things that we shouldn't, couldn't
Girl you got that good chocolate pudding
The best
to bring out the big, big, big, big, big, big balloons
Boy when you're with me
I'll give you a taste
Make it like your birthday everyday
I know you
Too late, too late, too late, too late
London boys are gazing as the girls go hand in hand
With a pocket full of innocence, their entrance is grand
the daytime with the light
You might be the type if I play my cards right
I'll find out by the end of the night
You expect me to just let you hit it
But
wild and a little crazy too
Some girls don't like boys like me
Aw but some girls do
I yelled and asked if you would like a ride
When we pulled out
them things that you got
Them dirty boys turn your poundcake to red velvet
How can you measure a nigga by multiple figures he may got, got, got
Had
Oh yeah
Got you drinking out them white cups, sodas
All this shit sounds foreign to you, thick smoke, chokin'
Baby get familiar with the order
That's right I'm in it
(Should've known I would fall)
I'm in it
(Stepping on cracks on the floor)
That's right
(And boys at your door)
That's right
There's a graveyard by the station
Where the girls wear nylon skirts and
Sandals ?
The boys ride their Riga 1's
Upon the little hill
Such
S-O-S she's in disguise
S-O-S she's in disguise
There's a she-wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
A domesticated girl, that's
and starin' right at me
He said boy you put your hand upon the hand of Hoddy Holly
Now you'll feel the heavy hand of Big Dupree
Then crazed by ragin' passion he
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