Candy Shop - Lyrics - Massacre - 50 Cent

Title: Candy Shop
Album: Massacre
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Scott Storch

Lyric:
Yeah
Uh huh
So seductive

I'll take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

I'll take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

You could have it your way, how do you want it?
You gon' back that thing up, or should I push up on it?
Temperature rising, okay, let's go to the next level
Dance floor jam packed, hot as a tea kettle

I break it down for you now, baby it's simple
If you be a ******, I'll be a ******
In the hotel, or in the back of the rental
On the beach or in the park, it's whatever you into

Got the magic stick, I'm the love doctor
I ain't finished teaching you 'bout how sprung I got ya
Wanna show me how you work it baby? No problem, get on top
Then get your bounce around, like a little rider

I'm seasoned vet when it come to this sh**
After you work up a sweat you can play with this stick
I'm trying to explain baby the best way I can
I melt in your mouth girl, not in your hands, ha ha

I'll take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

I'll take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

Girl what we do, what we do
And where we do, and where we do
The things we do, things we do
Are just between me and you, oh yeah

Give it to me baby, nice and slow
Climb on the top, ride like you in a rodeo
You ain't never heard a sound like this before
Cause I ain't never put it down like this

As soon as I come through the door, she get to pulling on my zipper
It's like it's a race who could get undressed quicker
Isn't it ironic how erotic it is to watch you in ******?
Had me thinking 'bout that *** after I'm gone

I touch the right spot at the right time
Lights on, or lights off, she like it from behind
So seductive you should see the way she whine
Her hips in slow mo' on the floor when we grind

Long as she ain't stopping, homie I ain't stopping
Dripping wet with sweat, man it's on and popping
All my champagne campaign, bottle after bottle, it's on
And we gon' sip til every bubble in every bottle is gone

I'll take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

I'll take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

I'll take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

I'll take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa

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Candy Shop - Lyrics - Hard Candy - Madonna

Title: Candy Shop
Album: Hard Candy
Artist: Madonna
Composer(s): Madonna Pharrell Williams

Lyric:
See which flavor you like and I'll have it for you
Come on in to my store, I got candy galore
Don't pretend you're not hungry, I've seen it before
I got Turkish delight baby and so much more

Get up out of your seat
(Your seat)
Come on up to the dance floor
I got something so sweet
(So sweet)
Come on up to the front door

I need plenty of heat
(Heat)
Form a special connection
Just start moving your feet
(Your feet)
Move on over to me

I'll be your one stop
(One stop)
Candy shop
(Candy shop)
Everything
(Everything)
That I got
(That I got)

I'll be your one stop
(One stop)
Candy store
(Candy store)
Lollipop
(Lollipop)
Have some more
(Have some more)

All these suckers are not what we sell in the store
Chocolate kisses so good you'll be beggin' for more
Don't pretend you're not hungry, there's plenty to eat
Come on in to my store 'cause my sugar is sweet

Get up out of your seat
(Your seat)
Come on up to the dance floor
I got something so sweet
(So sweet)
Come on up to the front door

I need plenty of heat
(Heat)
Form a special connection
Just start moving your feet
(Your feet)
Move on over to me

I'll be your one stop
(One stop)
Candy shop
(Candy shop)
Everything
(Everything)
That I got
(That I got)

I'll be your one stop
(One stop)
Candy store
(Candy store)
Lollipop
(Lollipop)
Have some more
(Have some more)

S-s-s-sticky and sweet
(Dance)
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw

S-s-s-sticky and sweet
(Dance)
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
(Dance)

See which flavor you like and I'll have it for you
Come on in to my store, I got candy galore
Don't pretend you're not hungry, I've seen it before
I got Turkish delight baby and so much more

Get up out of your seat
(Your seat)
Come on up to the dance floor
I got something so sweet
(So sweet)
Come on up to the front door

I need plenty of heat
(Heat)
Form a special connection
Just start moving your feet
(Your feet)
Move on over to me

I'll be your one stop
(One stop)
Candy shop
(Candy shop)
Everything
(Everything)
That I got
(That I got)

I'll be your one stop
(One stop)
Candy store
(Candy store)
Lollipop
(Lollipop)
Have some more
(Have some more)

S-s-s-sticky and sweet
(Dance)
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw

S-s-s-sticky and sweet
(Dance)
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
My sugar is raw
Sticky and sweet
(Dance)

Yo, peace to the gummy little kid
That be dancing on the corner in the UK and the USA
France I see you, Japan, all around the world
You know who it is, it's her, it's the M A D O N N A
You ready? Let's go, all right

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Waiting - Lyrics - Chemistry - Girls Aloud

Title: Waiting
Album: Chemistry
Artist: Girls Aloud
Composer(s): Cheryl Tweedy, Kimberley Walsh, Nadine Coyle, Timothy Elliott Larcombe, Sarah Harding, Nicola Roberts, Miranda Eleanor D Cooper, Lisa Cowling, Brian Thomas Higgins, Shawn Lee, Shawn Lee Mahan, Paul Robert Woods

Lyric:
The candy ladies said, "Knock, knock, knock
Who wants to come to my candy shop
I give you something to take back home
To give you shivers that you didn't even know"

"But listen, honey, it's drop by drop
The stuff I'm sellin' it's hot, hot, hot
Mr. Magic is not some toy
He's gonna separate the men from the boys"

If every guy's a dog then, baby, throw me to the wolves
I'll never get to Heaven with my glass half full

I've been waiting all this time for you
And I've been hatin' all this talkin', baby, black and blue
'Cause I've been praying, what's a girl to do
'Cause it's been hard not tryin' to bite you with the things I knew

Hey, there buttercup
You're like a peach on ice
I'm gonna heat your body up
And pray that it treats me good tonight

Hey boy, saddle up
Don't have to twist my arm
I like it when you lift my body up
And just enough to send me to the stars

All night, been lookin' at your hard-earned, six pack
Alright, I'll take ya back, feels like

I've been waiting all this time for you
And I've been hatin' all this talkin', baby, black and blue
'Cause I've been praying, what's a girl to do
'Cause it's been hard not tryin' to bite you with the things I knew

Rap bap, the boy can do
Don't stop the rhythm 'cause I'm coming through
Rap bap, the boy can move
Backtrack the middle till I'm in the groove

Rap bap, the boy can do
Don't stop the rhythm' 'cause I'm coming through
Rap bap, the boy can move
Backtrack the middle till I'm in the groove

The candy ladies said, "Knock, knock, knock
Who wants to come to my candy shop
I give you something to take back home
To give you shivers that you didn't even know"

"But listen, honey, it's drop by drop
The stuff I'm sellin' it's hot, hot, hot
Mr, Magic is not some toy
He's gonna separate the men from the boys"

If every guy's a dog then, baby, throw me to the wolves
I'll never get to heaven with my glass half full

I've been waiting all this time for you
And I've been hatin' all this talkin', baby, black and blue
'Cause I've been praying, what's a girl to do
'Cause it's been hard not tryin' to bite you with the things I knew

Rap bap, the boy can do
Don't stop the rhythm 'cause I'm coming through
Rap bap, the boy can move
Backtrack the middle till I'm in the groove

Rap bap, the boy can do
Don't stop the rhythm' 'cause I'm coming through
Rap bap, the boy can move
Backtrack the middle till I'm in the groove

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Cash - Lyrics - Big Moe

Title: Cash
Artist: Big Moe
Composer(s): Chad Butler, Aswad W Sampson, Derrick Dixon, Kenneth Moore, Derrick Haynes

Lyric:
I'm talking cash, nigga
Gripping grain, swaging lanes
We talking cash, nigga
Candy paint on all them Range

We talking cash, nigga
Don't try to stop my shine
We talking cash, nigga
'Cause I tussle on the mind

I'm talking cash, nigga
I'm talking cash, nigga
I'm talking cash, nigga
I'm talking cash, nigga

It's Big Moe I stepped up in the door
Out the South side bitch I'm far from a hoe
I ain't even scared and you know I'm down to wreck it
I'ma hit the bed Moe-Yo gone get naked

Got to strap my glock, got to strap my ding-a-ling
Out the South side, Moe-Yo gone sing sing
I'ma swing swing, crawl down slow
It's that Big Moe and you know I'm no hoe

I'ma knock down that hoe Toni Braxton
It's Moe-Yo come down there hating hoes I'm taxing
Slacking sleeping off, you can't be talking about my click
You know it's Wreck shop, hating hoes be on dick

It's that boy Moe, I'm out the South side
I done came down, Moe-Yo I'm gone chop
Ain't gone stop to the T O P
I creep I'm putting it down from the M O to the E

My nigga Noke Deezy, all about his cheezy
It's the Moe-Yo claim pussy got to be greasy
Got to keep it wet, on the mic I be's a vet
I'm coming down five thousand gotta get my check

If you want me to be on your song or sing a damn hook
It gotta be five grand bitch I'm coming down cool
With my nigga what Blue U
Out the South side, M-O-E a damn fool

With my partner D-Reck, hoes they been checked
It's that Wreck shop, earning paper and our respect
And my brother K-Luv, my nigga Big Toon
Knocking down soon, Moe-Yo gotta get a room

At the end of the fucking night, I'm gone be fucking
It's that Moe coming down, I do the gangsta strutting
My nigga King One, let's have fun
My partners Keke, Weets, the Lil Red coming down on hard

My nigga High G, you know he's down with me
M-O to the E, from the 1, 2, 3
The Wreck shop tree, that's where I be from
Partner Silly Yo coming down on fucking hard

I'm talking cash, nigga
Gripping grain, swaging lanes
We talking cash, nigga
Candy paint on all them Range

We talking cash, nigga
Don't try to stop my shine
We talking cash, nigga
'Cause I tussle on the mind

Since I was 17, I've been sipping on sip
Bitch niggas come through empty out the clip
I love old school cars, with candy ass paint
Your other niggas pussies cause them other niggas fake

You hollin' you a killa but I know you ain't no killa
I see you in the street bitch I'm a trill ass nigga
And now since the eighties, putting niggas down
Letting motherfuckers hear all that bass around

I ride an Impala, don't pop my collar
Coming through the record company, want all my dollas
You ain't got my paper bitch, you don't get no dick
And I ain't put my dick in the uh you wrecked

'Cause tramp hoes be talking, on the pilla walking
Out the street get them hoes, telling em bout all your clothes
And your car sitting on gold, and how much you get at shows
You shouldn't trust that bitch, that bitch will get you hit

I see it all the time, bitches get knocked on the grind
Keep it ten with that wife, coming back in the middle of the night
Say bitch you need to stop, you need to sell some cock
You need to get off them rocks and get on private yachts

I'm talking bout they cousin, coming through bitches buzzing
Drinking on Hennessey, bitch you don't know Pimp C
You late on the slab, coming through whipping ass
I whip it up in the lab and put it out like it's dark around

I'm talking cash, nigga
Gripping grain, swaging lanes
We talking cash, nigga
Candy paint on all them Range

We talking cash, nigga
Don't try to stop my shine
We talking cash, nigga
'Cause I tussle on the mind

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And I Love You - Lyrics - Rich Boy - Rich Boy

Title: And I Love You
Album: Rich Boy
Artist: Rich Boy
Composer(s): Z Murray, Antwan Patton, Maurece Richards, Micah Le Var Troy, David A Sheats, Jeffrey Bowden

Lyric:
I remember when I met 'cha, I was only sixteen
Who would ever thought that me and you would get the cream?
We took a lot of trips together, you stayed down
Remember when we start hoppin' on that Greyhound?

She say she like to play hide and seek in the ride
And sure I'll open up the trunk and hide her inside
She say she think I'm cheatin' wit a girl named Jane
You ain't just my baby, bitch, you my everything

I was broke but you made things better
As long as me and you together, we can get this cheddar
Whatever, her name White Sally
I met her through my homeboy Rico out in Cali

I thank Reagan for the haters when ya got hard
You bought me jewels, Gator shoes and some big cars
Yeah, you took me out in the hood, gave me good thangs
Now we on a private plane eatin' chicken wings, come on

(And I love you)
You the reason why I ride good
You the reason why I shop good
Drink good, smoke good

(And I love you)
You the reason why these hoes choose
You the reason why a nigga sprayed
Candy on my old school

(And I love you)
You the reason why I quarterback
Took a nigga out the projects
Put me in a cul-de-sac

That's why I get it how I live, boy
'Cause you took me
From a young broke nigga to a Rich Boy

And I love you, baby, muah, hugs and kisses
Fuck them niggas and fuck them bitches
Been in this game since 1998
Nigga, take the safety and shit but I'm great

Maybe it's fate, destiny, you tell me
Damn near ten and that shit been free
But I'm PT so I gots to cruise, nigga
Really ain't shit to prove to y'all niggas

All the cars, all the clothes
Wit all the stars and all the hoes
First class flights, a nigga live in the lights
But see you in the dark, this stuff is kinda hard

See where I park, valet costs a note
Drop another fifty just to check my coat
Probably leave wit yo' chick, know how I do
It's Pastor Disaster, baby, I love you

(And I love you)
You the reason why I ride good
You the reason why I shop good
Drink good, smoke good

(And I love you)
You the reason why these hoes choose
You the reason why a nigga sprayed
Candy on my old school

(And I love you)
You the reason why I quarterback
Took a nigga out the projects
Put me in a cul-de-sac

That's why I get it how I live, boy
'Cause you took me
From a young broke nigga to a Rich Boy

Took me from a gun totin' nigga to a Big Boi
Too legit to slip, now I got papers on my shit, boi
And not just a weapon, I'm talkin' 'bout titles and deeds
You payin' rent you can't afford and can't break out of your lease

I'm out of your league, I might as well be Ivy
All over ya ass like injections in a stripper's hiney
Rhyming is a skill that requires timing
Like dual ejaculation while my lady's riding

I'm 'bout to cum, I'm 'bout to cum at the same time
Satisfied? I'm satisfied, that's how I slang mine

A generation came up under my style
From penetration of the nation when I was just a child
Now, who's really in the critics talk 'bout me?
Andre 3000 and three mo' niggas that's really fie

Let me break it down, I get fly at that mouth
I stay fresh to the hosiery we 'posed to be
Them niggas from the South
So one to the two, the three, the fo'
Satisfied? I'm satisfied, so I'ma get 'cha some mo'

(And I love you)
You the reason why I ride good
You the reason why I shop good
Drink good, smoke good

(And I love you)
You the reason why these hoes choose
You the reason why a nigga sprayed
Candy on my old school

(And I love you)
You the reason why I quarterback
Took a nigga out the projects
Put me in a cul-de-sac

That's why I get it how I live, boy
'Cause you took me
From a young broke nigga to a Rich Boy

And I love you
And I love you
And I love you
And I love you
And I love you

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Lo - My Kind Of People - Lyrics - Cee-Lo Green Is The Soul Machine - Cee

Title: Lo - My Kind Of People
Album: Cee-Lo Green Is The Soul Machine
Artist: Cee
Composer(s): Headley Bennett, Huford Brown, Thoomas Callaway, Lloyd Ferguson, Robbie Lyn, Jackie Mittoo, Leroy Sibblies, Fitzroy Simpson

Lyric:
So if you like coke
And you like dope
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

And if you're good
I knew you would
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

My name is sugar, spread sweet as a candy shop
Give the valet the car keys of the candy drop
Now gather round y'all, here comes a sight to see
Me and Menta'll come and kill 'em consecutively

I walk through the door, I don't even look at the line
Smokin' pine, standin' under the exit sign
Shorty greets me with a grin and she starts to grind
We're havin' big fun till the sun starts to shine

So if you like coke
And you like dope
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

A little rock and roll
A whole lot of soul
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

We gon' drank good, gon' smoke good
The interior is all oak wood
You know how me and my folks do it
It's A-Town, we don't play around

78 Sevilles on Ferris wheels
Where it's at? There it is
Did you like that? Well, then write back
Matter fact, wait a minute, I'll be right back

(Skuurt)
I'm back what's up now
I done went and got my truck now
I'm a lone dude comin', good luck now
Somebody else wants to fuck now

Now you know 'Lo and his cognac
He done been to the moon, have you done that?
Get on in and lemme show you the world
Lemme use my kind of people, girl

So if you like coke
And you like dope
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

And if you're good
I knew you would
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

Now I can smell it, somebody put good grain in the air
(Ain't nothin' better than some real good music)
And there's a lot of fine ass women everywhere
(Oh 'cause your eyes are just that no good)

Ain't nothin' wrong with dancin' and drinkin' and havin' fun
(Girl, get on the floor, put your back into it)
Why won't you take your dead ass home if you ain't havin', none?
(Don't just stand around and just watch us do it)

So if you like coke
And you like dope
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

A little rock and roll
A whole lot of soul
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)
You're my kind of people
(My kind of people)

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Lil Weapons - Lyrics - Lupe Fiasco's The Cool - Lupe Fiasco

Title: Lil Weapons
Album: Lupe Fiasco's The Cool
Artist: Lupe Fiasco
Composer(s): Bishop G Wasalu Muhammad Jaco, Patrick Martin Stumph

Lyric:
Now little Terry got a gun he got from the store
He bought it with the money he got from his chores
He robbed a candy shop, told her, ?Lay down on the floor
Put the cookies in the bag, take the pennies out the drawer?

Lil' Khalil got a gun he got from the rebels
To kill the infidels and the American devils
A bomb on his waist, a mask on his face
Prays five times a day and listens to heavy metal

Little Alex got a gun he took from his dad
That he snuck in the school is his black book bag
His black nail polish, black boots and black hat
He gon' blow away the bully that just pushed his ass

Little weapon
Little weapon
Little weapon
Little weapon

I killed another man today
Shot him in his back as he ran away
Then I blew up his house wit a hand grenade
Cut his wife throat as she put her hands to pray

?Just five more dogs, then we can get a soccer ball"
That's what my commander say
How old? Well I'm like ten, eleven
Been fightin' since I was like six or seven

Now I don't know much 'bout where I'm from
But I know I strike fear everywhere I come
Government want me dead so I wear my gun
I really want the rocket launcher but I'm still too young

This candy give me courage not to fear no one
To feel no pain and hear no tongue
So I hear no screams and I shed no tear
If I'm in your dreams, then your end is near, it's you

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you
There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you
We'll find you somethin' small to use
Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now, pow

Little weapon

Now here comes the march of the boy brigade
A macaw parade of the toys he made
And in shimmers shades, who look half his age
About half the size of the flags they wave

And camouflage suits made to fit youths
'Cause the one off of dead soldiers hang a lil' loose
Where AK-47s that they shootin' into heaven
Like they tryin' kill a Jetson that struggles little recruits

Cute, smileless, heartless, valiants
Childhood destroyed, devoid of all childish ways
Can't write their own names
Or read the words that's on their own graves

Think you gangsta, popped a few rounds?
These kids'll come through and murder a whole town
Then sit back and smoke and watch it burn down
The graves get deeper the further we go down

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you
There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you
We'll find you somethin' small to use
Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now, pow

Imagine if I had to console
The families of those slain I slayed on game consoles
I, aim my hole, right trigger to squeeze
Press up and Y, one less nigga breathe

B for the bombs, press pause for your moms
Make the room silent, she don't approve with violent games
She leave, resume activity
Start in blue heart, subpar sharp wizardry

On next part I, insert code
To sweeten up the little person's murder workload
Artillery work fo', C I A with A
A operative, a operate to scam all day

I hold the controller connected to the soldier
With weapons on his shoulders, he's only seconds older
Than me, me, playful but serious
Now keep that on mind for on line experience

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you
There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you
We'll find you somethin' small to use
Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you
There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you
We'll find you somethin' small to use
Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now, pow

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Bull In A China Shop - Lyrics - Barenaked Ladies Are Me - Barenaked Ladies

Title: Bull In A China Shop
Album: Barenaked Ladies Are Me
Artist: Barenaked Ladies
Composer(s): Steven Page, Tyler Stewart, Jim Creeggan, Ed Robertson

Lyric:
I'm a kid in a candy store
I'm a bull in a China Shop
I?m a tired old metaphor
For everything you can?t afford
And everything you can?t afford to be

I?m a public embarrassment
I?m a bottle of diet poison
I?m a walking advertisement
For everything I never meant
And everything I never meant to be

I can?t hear a thing
'Cause I?ve stopped listening

I?m the reason I don?t go out
I?m afraid I might tell me something
I?m the shadow of every doubt
I?m the product the song?s about
And I?m the product the song?s about to be

I can?t hear a thing
'Cause I?ve stopped listening
I can?t hear a thing
'Cause I?ve stopped listening

Every morning
Since I was born
It?s been hard to look in the mirror
And see my face for the horns

All the fun that the law allows
All the fun but with half the meaning
Come on over, I?ll show you how
If you lived here, you?d be home by now
If you still lived here
You?d be home now with me

I can?t hear a thing
'Cause I?ve stopped listening
I can?t hear a thing
'Cause I?ve stopped listening

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168bbdad2dd11027981065db48ae6d98

My Fo Fo - Lyrics - All or Nothing - Fat Joe

Title: My Fo Fo
Album: All or Nothing
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Andre Christopher Lyon, J Barbera, H Curtin, J Cartagena, Marcello Valenzano, W Hanna

Lyric:
Yeah that'll do it, yeah, I love hip hop
I love this motherfuckin' hip hop game
This nigga here is a little nigga, man
Stay in your motherfuckin' lane, nigga
You fuckin' with a Don, nigga, Crack, follow me

Fifty, meet Fifty, he's the fakest have you ever seen?
Curtis, Curtis Jackson
How come you can never ever be seen?

(Once I got you, I'ma give you my)
My, my fo fo fo fo fo
My, my fo fo fo fo fo, my, my fo fo fo fo fo
I'ma give it to you, baby, nice and slow

Fifty, you gon' end up dead when you fuckin' with Crack
Talkin' about you gon' pop off, where the fuck you be at?
Cook, I see MJ in the hood more than Curtis
Matter fact, this beef shit is making niggaz nervous

It's gonna be families grieving every Sunday service
End up with your head popped off, thanks to Curtis
But he don't care, he stay locked up in the house an' shit
Steroid up and he won't come about that bitch

Is it me or 'Candy Shop' sound like 'Magic Stick'?
In the video, this nigga Fifty 'bout to strip
Shakin' his ass, what the fuck is wrong with this nigga?
Fifty, don't make me

Oh yeah, you got sixty-five niggaz on your team
And they're not from Southside, Jamaica, Queens
They're the boys in blue, I'm just speakin' the truth
Now we all see the bitch in you, follow me, nigga

Fifty, meet Fifty, he's the fakest have you ever seen?
Curtis, Curtis Jackson
How come you can never ever be seen?

(Once I got you, I'ma give you my)
My, my fo fo fo fo fo
My, my fo fo fo fo fo, my, my fo fo fo fo fo
I'ma give it to you, baby, nice and slow

Now, let's take it back to the Vibe awards
Where that nigga disrespect and then snuffed your boss
Minute ago, all I heard was G-G-G-Unit
Fifty niggaz ran and they didn't even do shit

That's a shame, I was sittin' right in the front
Waitin' for you niggaz to dump
Where all thug guns and them Teflon vests-es?
We them Terror Squad boys, you should know not to test us

'Hate it or Love It,' The Game's on top
Now you jealous of him, when your shit gon' stop?
You 'CB4,' youse a bitch nigga 'Straight Outta Locash'
L.A. don't believe him, this nigga is so ass

You dissed 'Lean Back,' said my shit was a dud
Now tell me have you ever seen 'em up in the club?
Nope, nope, no shawty that's right
You singin' more than you rappin' now Fifty that ain't right

Fifty, meet Fifty, he's the fakest have you ever seen?
Curtis, Curtis Jackson
How come you can never ever be seen?

(Once I got you, I'ma give you my)
My, my fo fo fo fo fo
My, my fo fo fo fo fo, my, my fo fo fo fo fo
I'ma give it to you, baby, nice and slow

New York, I know what y'all thinkin', man
Y'all thinkin' Jada gon' slay him lyrically
This nigga be crazy for dissin'
Fat Joe man, he really crazy though

This nigga be walkin' around with
Twenty cops talkin' shit on records
Never comin' out his house
Feel like he can't get touched, man

I respond one time, one time only
It ain't gon' be no more songs from me, man
And this for all the muh'fuckers
Who doubted Crack man

Trust me, nigga could response ten thousand times
I ain't talkin' back to that nigga
The one thing I will promise you

If I want get you I'm gon' get you
And that's it, man, it's Crack, bitch
It's gon' be a real ugly summer, man

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897bdad8c34211f5e09db4fa84f08339

Vickie Vance Gotta Dance - Lyrics - Mark Chesnutt

Title: Vickie Vance Gotta Dance
Artist: Mark Chesnutt
Composer(s): Bill Kenner, Mark Wright

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Spinnin? those curlers round all day
Her little beauty shop provides a way
To work at home and sleep in late
So she can dance the night away

Pilot gotta fly, eagle gotta soar
Give a baby candy, gotta give it more
Cowboy gotta ride, gambler gotta chance
And Vickie Vance gotta dance
Yeah, Vickie Vance gotta dance

And she can be dancin? to nothin? at all
And she does a mean swing with the shadows on the wall
Yeah, and I bet she?s done the two step a million times
Yeah, she drives all the boys on the dance floor wild

Pilot gotta fly, eagle gotta soar
Give a baby candy, gotta give it more
Cowboy gotta ride, gambler gotta chance
And Vickie Vance gotta dance
Yeah, Vickie Vance gotta dance

Ooh, she can?t stand still
Yeah, she?s dancin? off the wall
Dancin? on the window sill

Yeah, pilot gotta fly, eagle gotta soar
Give a baby candy, gotta give it more
Cowboy gotta ride, gambler gotta chance
And Vickie Vance gotta dance
Baby, Vickie Vance gotta dance
Yeah, Vickie Vance gotta dance

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0ac8eccabf3202be74cdcbf360130c85

Throw Some D'S (Spoof Remix) - Lyrics - Kanye West

Title: Throw Some D'S (Spoof Remix)
Artist: Kanye West
Composer(s): Robert Louis Crawford, Robert L. Debarge, Jamal F Jones, Maurece Richards, Gregory Williams

Lyric:
Zone 4
Get money
New money

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Took it to the chop shop got the damn top drop
Two color flip flop, candy red lollipop
It's hoes in the parking lot

But I still got my glock cocked
New money mothafucka, don't ya see the big dot?
Don't see the big chain? Don't ya see the big rims?
Wonder who they hatin' on, lately paid for this meal

Candy paint, gator skin seats, call me Dundee
Pope in ya hood, I'm the boy that ya wanna be
Haters wish they could feel the wood in my '83
Ridin' with no tints so the mothafucka know it's me

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

I never slip, I never fall, alot of hoes
Gimme they numbers, but I never call
A real OG, look at VIP and see a nigga ball
Then after we hit the club baby I'ma hit them draws

Yeah, I'ma break you off, and that's all
Every freak should have a picture of my dick on they walls
Polow be the shit, zone 4 be the click, yeah this for my dawgs
Yeah, gangstas, hustlers, wankstas, bustas
Wait a minute mothafucka

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Hit the block on some new ten thousand dollar rims
Can't explain how I feel, touch the gator on the wheel
Got peanut butter ice cream peter pan seats
Just got a fresh cut, now we lookin' for the freaks

Take a bad yellow bitch, make her drop them draws
I'ma show ya how to ball, middle finger to the law
So fuck them niggaz what they wanna do
Hatin' on a playa 'cause my 'lac skatin' 22's

When I pull up I'ma park right at the front
Pourin' lean in my cup, got purp in my blunt
I'ma real pimp, bitch, I ain't playin' like a trick
Just bought a new 'lac and put them thangs on that bitch

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Play the MP3 online for free!

33471bef1168b5bc0f3ed93202308f26

Throw Some D'S - Lyrics - Rich Boy - Rich Boy

Title: Throw Some D'S
Album: Rich Boy
Artist: Rich Boy
Composer(s): Robert Louis Crawford, Jamal F Jones, Maurece Richards, Gregory Williams, Robert L. Debarge

Lyric:
Zone 4
Get money
New money

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Took it to the chop shop got the damn top drop
Two color flip flop, candy red lollipop
It's hoes in the parking lot

But I still got my glock cocked
New money mothafucka, don't ya see the big dot?
Don't see the big chain? Don't ya see the big rims?
Wonder who they hatin' on, lately paid for this meal

Candy paint, gator skin seats, call me Dundee
Pope in ya hood, I'm the boy that ya wanna be
Haters wish they could feel the wood in my '83
Ridin' with no tints so the mothafucka know it's me

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

I never slip, I never fall, alot of hoes
Gimme they numbers, but I never call
A real OG, look at VIP and see a nigga ball
Then after we hit the club baby I'ma hit them draws

Yeah, I'ma break you off, and that's all
Every freak should have a picture of my dick on they walls
Polow be the shit, zone 4 be the click, yeah this for my dawgs
Yeah, gangstas, hustlers, wankstas, bustas
Wait a minute mothafucka

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Hit the block on some new ten thousand dollar rims
Can't explain how I feel, touch the gator on the wheel
Got peanut butter ice cream peter pan seats
Just got a fresh cut, now we lookin' for the freaks

Take a bad yellow bitch, make her drop them draws
I'ma show ya how to ball, middle finger to the law
So fuck them niggaz what they wanna do
Hatin' on a playa 'cause my 'lac skatin' 22's

When I pull up I'ma park right at the front
Pourin' lean in my cup, got purp in my blunt
I'ma real pimp, bitch, I ain't playin' like a trick
Just bought a new 'lac and put them thangs on that bitch

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Play the MP3 online for free!

45f453434bf23c12299dc6bc333fac12

We Can Get Down - Lyrics - Midnight Marauders - A Tribe Called Quest

Title: We Can Get Down
Album: Midnight Marauders
Artist: A Tribe Called Quest
Composer(s): B Cosby, M Taylor, A Muhammed, J Davis

Lyric:
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down

Ah, it's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
Check it

I'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow
If you don't know me by now, you'll never know
Steppin' on my critics, beatin' on my foes
The plan is to stay focused, only then I can go
Straight from the heart, I represent hip hop
I be three albums deep but I don't wanna go pop
Too many candy rappers seem to be at the top
Too much candy is no good, so now I'm closin' the shop

Crushin' competition like your tires on grapes
My rhymes styles be blendin' like a Ron G tape
My man where ya goin', you can't escape
When the Tribe is in the house, that means nobody is safe
How can a reverend preach when a rev can't define
The music of our youth from 1979
We rap about what we see, meaning reality
From people bustin' caps and like Mandela bein' free

Not every MC be with the negativity
We have a slew of rappers pushin' positivity
Hip hop will never die yo, it's all about the rap
So Marion Barry smokin' crack, let's preach about that
The trash you talk won't matter, that old bogus chatter
The more that you condemn us, it only makes us phatter
When I talk, I know I'm talkin' for you poppers all around
You know you love the sound, we get down

We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down
We can get down, we can, we can get down

Ah, it's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
Check it

I'm the cherry on the top of yo ice cream
I'm the Mister Thought inside your dream
Listen to the way we pulsate the jam
I'm the nigga here with the mic in hand
Styles that we present are just a few
To do away with you and your hum drum crew
This is '93 and the shit is real
Black people unite and put down your steel

Ladies make a forum on your sexual drive
Devoted to your lover and make it thrive
The riff was of F, I'm a hip hop body
Release my energy with the force of a shotty
Standin' on the wall with my Polo on
Talkin' to the girl with the Liz Claiborne
Keep the poetry in my black knapsack
Got my Timbo horse and my Doublemint pack

Hit the city streets to enhance my soul
I can kick a rhyme over ill drum rolls
With a kick, snare, kicks and high hat
Skilled in the trade of that old boom bap
I can do a trick with the opposite breed
I used to down 40's and smoke grain weed
Now, I'm doin' shows with half loot down
Now it's time for me to take ya uptown

It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like that
It's like that man, it's like this

Play the MP3 online for free!

47640b8e9a945bcde8063dd013a9f267

Throw Some D'S (Remix) - Lyrics - Rich Boy - Rich Boy

Title: Throw Some D'S (Remix)
Album: Rich Boy
Artist: Rich Boy
Composer(s): Robert Louis Crawford, Jamal F Jones, Maurece Richards, Gregory Williams, Robert L. Debarge

Lyric:
Zone 4
Get money
New money

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Took it to the chop shop got the damn top drop
Two color flip flop, candy red lollipop
It's hoes in the parking lot

But I still got my glock cocked
New money mothafucka, don't ya see the big dot?
Don't see the big chain? Don't ya see the big rims?
Wonder who they hatin' on, lately paid for this meal

Candy paint, gator skin seats, call me Dundee
Pope in ya hood, I'm the boy that ya wanna be
Haters wish they could feel the wood in my '83
Ridin' with no tints so the mothafucka know it's me

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

I never slip, I never fall, alot of hoes
Gimme they numbers, but I never call
A real OG, look at VIP and see a nigga ball
Then after we hit the club baby I'ma hit them draws

Yeah, I'ma break you off, and that's all
Every freak should have a picture of my dick on they walls
Polow be the shit, zone 4 be the click, yeah this for my dawgs
Yeah, gangstas, hustlers, wankstas, bustas
Wait a minute mothafucka

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Hit the block on some new ten thousand dollar rims
Can't explain how I feel, touch the gator on the wheel
Got peanut butter ice cream peter pan seats
Just got a fresh cut, now we lookin' for the freaks

Take a bad yellow bitch, make her drop them draws
I'ma show ya how to ball, middle finger to the law
So fuck them niggaz what they wanna do
Hatin' on a playa 'cause my 'lac skatin' 22's

When I pull up I'ma park right at the front
Pourin' lean in my cup, got purp in my blunt
I'ma real pimp, bitch, I ain't playin' like a trick
Just bought a new 'lac and put them thangs on that bitch

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Rich Boy sellin' crack broke niggaz wanna jack
Shit tight, no slack just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac
Throw some D's on that bitch
Just bought a Cadillac

Play the MP3 online for free!

da9a3eca16a844048be7a00144bf1ed0

Project Dreamz - Lyrics - 613: Ashy to Classy - Field Mob

Title: Project Dreamz
Album: 613: Ashy to Classy
Artist: Field Mob
Composer(s): Shawn Johnson, Darion Crawford, Emanuel Anderson, Amin Anwar Miller

Lyric:
Rent thirty days late, gotta be gone by Saturday
Tired of sellin' cocaine, folks tryna trap me
Every night dreamin 'bout livin' life lavish
A watch full of karats, a candy coated Caddy

Off the show flo', sittin' on fo' Vogues
Oak wood gear shift, steer and dash door
Choppin' on seventeen inch Indies
Bling bling from my mouth to my pinky

Enough about my jewelry, grill and my Fleetwood
Financially stable so my folks can eat good
House sittin' out on the hill to sleep good
Livin' peaceful just like we should

Money legal, no more sellin' reefer
No more feds tryna stick me like a needle
When it's cold outdo's come in I heat ya
You ain't gotta walk in the sun, I A.C. ya

Don't worry 'bout that burglar comin' to creep ya
He trapped by alarms and the millimeter
I'm a do or die ol' playa for my people
Follow a leader I'm my brotha's keeper, for real

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Makin' legal money, no feds tryna trap me

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Nigga, legal money, no feds tryna trap me

If you ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up
You ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up

What ya know 'bout havin no dough, no coat for the winter?
Remember, we poor folk
Most cut yolk and smoke 'ports, cut throats and ya dope hoe
Talk about they wanna 'Lac with four do's, no Vogues

Wood kit and Momo's, outfits- Polo, pockets- so swole
Jenny Craig called- Escalade hog in the yard
Breakin' off ya folks too, belly full of soul food
Chitt'lins, greens, pork chops, green beens

Yeah, I pray for that, each and every day I rap
I rap with God 'cause I feel you ain't really safe with gats
We escape slacks but government helped in welfare
My folk cries to the law and ain't no help there

We ain't had much, the less to brag about but mo' to lose
I ran the street, Mama told me go to school
But now I got a chance to change thangs and maintain
Mo' so, I ain't gotta slang 'caine no mo'

Hell yeah boy, if you really understand dirt
Well, I'ma rap and you gon' clap until your hands hurt
I ain't the only person feel like I feel, gotta live like I live
And wanna chill, for real

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Makin' legal money, no feds tryna trap me

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Nigga, legal money, no feds tryna trap me

If you ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up
You ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up

Now, put your hands up if you're broke folks tried [Incomprehensible]
But y'all ate free lunch and you never had [Incomprehensible]
Put ya hands up, if you feel my hurt
Have you ever bathed with soap the size of a Cert?

Don't disguise the dirt then 'cause we all know rocks
It's the real reason furniture go to the pawn shop
'Cause ya crackhead 'cuz smokin' the car antennas
I understand see, it's a junkie in every family

'Member hand-me-down, tight pants, lookin' slim in 'em
If they too big, what you do? Put a hem in 'em
'Member talkin' over the loud sounds when the wind blow
'Cause the trash bag's replacin' yo' car window
Man, I been po', I been poor, we been po'
That's how it is in the Field, for real

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Makin' legal money, no feds tryna trap me

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Nigga, legal money, no feds tryna trap me

If you ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up
You ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Makin' legal money, no feds tryna trap me

I'ma have me a big nice Caddy
House on the hill for my ma' and my pappy
Live life happy and I'm still nappy
Nigga, legal money, no feds tryna trap me

If you ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put your hands up
You ever been broke put your hands up
You been broke put your hands up, put 'em up

Play the MP3 online for free!

4792985e94d1dd6b6be1b32c24f71ece

Who'S Ya Daddy - Lyrics - Reality Check - Juvenile

Title: Who'S Ya Daddy
Album: Reality Check
Artist: Juvenile
Composer(s): Terrance Freeman, Teruis Gray

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Girl, you're lookin' like a '4 dropped low to the ground
Ooh, I like it when you shake it up and swing it around
Don't stop, ooh, you servin' it now
Have a nigga lookin' for you, searchin' around

I tried to pass you up but you're lookin' so hot
Got my dick gettin' stiffer than a robot
You not lookin' concerned about what a hoe got
You just layin' it down right there in yo' spot

When you pass a nigga, come to a slow stop
Wonderin' how I'm lookin' when the clothes drop
Fresh out of the fingernail and toe shop
Lookin' real, I gotta get her when the hoe pop

She got a shape, ain't nothin' fake, she in the race
Her pretty face, I'd give her a 7 or 8 or maybe 9 if she really fine
Side and behind with a lady mind
Diamonds, she genuine

Let your hair down, girl, you already know
When I grab ya ass, I ain't gonna let it go
Ooh, I'm the shit and you the poo poo
Let a nigga fuck you with that uptown voodoo

You my lil' mamma mia and you already know
Who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, hoe?
You my lil' mamma mia and you already know
Who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy hoe?

Your big, fine, don't be scared, put your hands up
Give me a minute, you ain't gotta give your man up
In a relationship, I understand and what?
He ain't focusin' right now, so we can fuck

Move, shake, bounce, pop
Pancake it, pull it over at the bus stop
Swing it back around, stop it there and make it wiggle
Put it in reverse and back it up just a little

It ain't your birthday, nope, it ain't your birthday
But I'ma treat you like that, if you can serve me
Girl, you a stallion, let me take you to the derby
I bet a hundred that you gon' be up in first place

Pose, move, stop, walk
Shit, I think you more finer than the block talk
Ladies, put your hands up if you need to get dropped off
Up even higher if you wanna leave in my car

Let your hair down girl, you already know
When I grab ya ass I ain't gonna let it go
Ooh, I'm the shit and you the poo poo
Let a nigga fuck you with that uptown voo-doo

You my lil' mamma mia and you already know
Who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, hoe?
You my lil' mamma mia and you already know
Who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, hoe?

Like it when you be dressin' all fancy
And your lips be lookin' like candy
Come here and get you a sip of this brandy
Let me think a size off of what I can see

You musta been eatin' by grannies
'Cause that ass lookin' phat in them panties
Tryin' to treat you like one of my family
And I won't be actin' like your man be

I'm the shit lil' mama, just chance me
'Cause you're lookin' at a more advanced me
Now drop it and pop it and shake it like a dog
Look back at a gangsta when you're catchin' the wall

Let your hair down, girl, you already know
When I grab ya ass, I ain't gonna let it go
Ooh, I'm the shit and you the poo poo
Let a nigga fuck you with that uptown voo-doo

You my lil' mamma mia and you already know
Who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, hoe?
You my lil' mamma mia and you already know
Who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, who's ya daddy, hoe?

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Wrap It Up - Lyrics - Eurythmics

Title: Wrap It Up
Artist: Eurythmics
Composer(s): Isaac Hayes, David Porter

Lyric:
I've been watching you for days now baby
I just love your sexy ways now baby
You know my love will never stop now baby
Just put your loving in my box baby

Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it

No more will I shop around now baby
You know I've got the best thing in town now baby
I've seen all I wanna see baby
What your loving means to me now baby

Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it

I'm gonna treat you like the queen you are
Give you sweet things from my candy jar
You've got treats you ain't ever used
Give it, give it to me it won't get abused

I've been watching you for days now baby
I just love your sexy ways now baby
You know my love will never stop now baby
Just put your loving in my box baby

Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it
Wrap it up, I'll take it
...

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