Lyrics:
17-2-47-A
So memorize well if ye not be afeared, I command ye by every hair in my beard
Pardon the speech of an insolent weirdo
You get like that by reading
Words and music by John Kay and Michael Wilk
Got nothin' more to show ya, there ain't no more to say
You know the mess we made, it just will not go
And clutch my nutsack and spit all who pick at me
A pitt and rott mix, fuck the dogs you sic on me
I'm sayin' you motherfuckers don't know us, quit playin'
you know he's
"Gonna get the night on fire..."
Anyway you put it when you see me you know that I'm the man
Hypothetically speaking who's speaking
mix it up like juicy lacore
I put it on her, time to rock some juicy catore
Take a backseat lets do it in the bj
Yeah I know that sounds so cliche
like an activist, you know, active
Nigga like me just has to spit acid
Sucker like you just has to get blasted
Ashes to ashes, Frasier to Cassius
No
well o
Move your bombom well o
Let the bombom take control o
When you see a woman you like
And you approach and you say O M G
Iyen tun mo si Oh My God
Shake, to, my flow
Let it go when you shake that coco
"I Got Game", so whatcha know
Get it up, then I hit her with the Rambo
Oo-chie, coo-chie
they know me so well
But I shows no love and be like: "Oh, well! " (well!)
When my album drops, sure as hell goin' sell (yup!)
Stack cash and laugh
Hey yo, it's Mr. Low,key, you need to go see
The host by far a mostly O.T., with a brand new show, but
You know how the flow be
'Cause when I
devotion makes it all twice as sweet
Back together reunited bonded once more
Before I was hesitant but now I'm sure
[Chorus: x2]
Well now you know
life like that
You shoulda got down with my crew
Slingin' cracks international
But instead, you wanna merge with the rivals
And moves like that could end
like Playstation
Reporting to you live from the International Space Station
I probably vacation on Mars
The flow is out of this world and so is
take them up out the arena
Back and forth like Venus and Sirena
Seen her?.. (have you seen her?)
Ya know my M.O.
Are dot DiVoe, everything's a go, oh
get off of kicks, vick your flick
Hard as bricks, rock ya sick over the mix
The L, L, C, O, O, L J Period now you know bro!
N-I-T-R-O yo go for what
That's why I'm jukin', that candy cream with that puddin'
Is baby bash all about that cash an' that Mary Jane
You know tha game, I gots to gets tha money
a light, nigga?
Used to chastise or string us up to spite niggas
War to fight for the culture, instead we eaten by vultures
They mix us like mimosas, hang
And that's when she hit me with a
"Well, I don't get why you would tell me you want me to be your wifey
When you wanna be Romeo, have me here for the rodeo
Sex him well, get him high, he might fuck around and die
[1 - Lil' Kim]
I guess you know by now who's number one
Brooklyn, Brooklyn that's where I'm
I'm destined to win
Like a full champion
And we know it's happening
At the time, get ready, set, go
On your mark, get set, when I thought the jet
Look
on the elevator, hops off the six floor
Knocks on the door of room 604
Gets greeted by the biggest pair of thighs you want to see
With a pair just like a mona
hard, the lights is killing my eyes
I know when moms layin' down, I get bored, start to get live
Move side to side, hear loud music and vibe
All black
about
I grew wit' it (uh)
Your crew ain't even true wit' it
I see your man he's like, um nothing to do with it
I know you pack like that
But Cam, why
to play
Cuttin' records, drivin' cars, and you'll know who we are
Make a mix just for kicks
And you'll be on our tip
And, oh yes, there's
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