Lyrics True Honey Buns (Dat Freak Shit) - Bahamadia

True Honey Buns (Dat Freak Shit)

I’m reclinin' out West, maxin' at the ress
Pressed to see my cutie that I call to come caress me
Desperate pooh unavailable to check this
Not into masturbating yo 'cause that’s some other shit
Since I had hit the dry spell I figured I’d manicure my nails
Then out the blue I’m interrupted by the bell
It was K talkin' bout D
«C'mon let’s bounce tonight, Wu-Tang performin' at the Fever
And I got the backstage passes, VIP status
Tha afterparty’s at the Marriott, we in the night like Gladys»
Cool I can do with that
Give me 45 so I can wash the pussy cat
And marinade the body, hop in Mizarahi
Tighten up the afro and turn to superhottie
I tell you what, I’ll hit you up soon as I’m ready
When I see your Mitsubishi out front we jettin'
True honey buns, wanna have fun
Unlike a chick who settle for the hit and run, yeah
To all tha girls do what you gotta do
But it ain’t what you do — it’s how you do it (you do it)
Arrivin' at the club like 11:45
Scenery was live
Mob like a 3−2 center outside, fly rides, the whole shabang
You know how Philly hang come time they get extravagant
While I was sidetrackeded by the glamour and the glitz
Key was chattin' with the bouncer telling' him we on the list
Within a split second we escorted through congestion
Routine friction, metal detection, all clear as air, no question
So we grabbed Kahluas at the bar
And head towards the dance section, no hesitation
Breeze into the back
In the green room where the celebrities was at
That’s when the propaganda began to emerge
Star stud events must trigger hoochie alerts
'Cause Kia went berserk, diggy low at first
Subtle body language actin' like a flirt
Tongue stickin' out wit the baby doll pout
Talkin' all loud, I’m like what’s dis all about?
There go Method Man
I’m sayin' what’s up with him?
I’m tryna see him fo' real
They look good
Why you lookin' at me like that?
I’m sayin' I got to get mine
Fo' real, I got to get mine, okay?
Here come the raw maneuver, lewder than imagined
Kia aimin' for attention, strivin' for it with a passion
Slips out her sarong, started dancing in her thongs
Like a bootie song was on, I said «sis you know you wrong
See you the reason nigs be screamin' bitches, hoes and tricks
I don’t believe you goin' out on that Adina Howard shit
Don’t you think these niggas think you hotter than the sun?
Even if they talk to you they wanna hit & run
And if you schemin' on the cream, boo
You ain’t gettin' none, you played from the door
With that nut shit you done»
Then she gon' look at me and say «yo chill whatever» (whatever)
I thought you was my peeps, I said I thought you was together
Your actions bounce on all these chicks in here like a reflector
I’m tryna school you sis, it’s plain that you don’t know no better
But I’m not the one to judge, so do what you gotta do
But it ain’t what you do — it’s how you do it (you do it)
Yo, true honey buns
Wanna have fun
Unlike a chick who settle for the hit and run, yeah
To all the girls do what you gotta do
But it ain’t what you do — it’s how you do it (it's how you do it)
(It's how you do it)
(It's how you do it)
(It's how you do it)
(It's how you do it)