| Lyrics: | Fat Joe (R. Kelly)]
(Ooohhh, mmm)
Yea, uh, uh (Fat Joe and the R)
That shit y'all
(Breakin shit down)
Shake that, funky, funky, funky (Yeah)
Sticky, icky, icky - yeah
uh
I got that shit y'all
I got that shit y'all
Uh yo yo
[Fat
Joe]
Crackman and I'm at it again
Niggas had they run, now it's time for change
When
we step in the club, nigga tuck ya chain
Got the mink on - same color the Range
Uh, pour
liqour for my nigga that's gone
Big Pun! Then we party like we just came home
Fuck a bitch
if she act to grown
I don't need that shit, I got my wife at home
Uh words slurrin, dirty
urine
Drunk of off Henny and the Joe keep burnin
Dancin with shorty and her friend keep
flirtin
I don't always crush two but tonight seems certain
Party hard like "Fuck all
y'all!"
Bottles in the air like we stuck up the bar
Terror Squad man you know who we
are
Cruise through ya block and them drop-top Bentley's is ours
[Chorus - R.
Kelly]
Yeah, we thuggin, rollin on dubs and,
Off up in the club, whylin like what
Got
Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, mami don't stop
Throwin up six o'clock, plus I got four
hun-nies in the drop
And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot
And it's full with hunnies,
panties with no tops
We take a puff of 'dro be-atch
[Fat Joe]
Yea uh, yea yea
yo
Everybody wanna know where the crib's at
Niggas just now gettin ice, so we get
that
Mami starin at me like she wanna get kidnapped
Money lookin happy with his wife but
we triz that
Along with Lisa, Aisha, Shonda, Renee
Even ran through the dorms down in
Morgan State
In Miami, pool-party off the chain
Gettin brains in the water on Memorial
Day
Uh, grand-mami all cool and shit
It's ya birthday, show me what I'm foolin
with
Like no doubt, pokin doll out, pull ya g-string down south
Owww! Pass that, give
shorty a shot
True enough we gon' see if she naughty or not
I'm on E feelin ready and
hot
I give 'em twenty a pop, you wanna roll? leave the pennies atop
[Chorus - R.
Kelly]
[RK] Fat Joe, R. Kelly we pop up
[FJ] Yeah, Terror Squad, Rockland what the
fuck what
[RK] Fat Joe, R. Kelly we pop up
[FJ] Uh, uh, Rockland, Terror Squad what the
fuck what
[Both] Some of these kids is doin they own thing
But none of these kids
stack chips like us
Some of these cats is doin they own thing
But none of these cats run
tricks like us
[Chorus - R. Kelly]
[Fat Joe]
Haha, yeah uh
You know
what this is
Chi-town - BX
What the fuck what?
Out |
