Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mic Jack, artist - Big Boi. Album song BOOMIVERSE, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 15.06.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Hitco, Purple Ribbon
Song language: English
Mic Jack |
| Niggas still ain’t fuckin' with Hollywood Court |
| 'Cause they fuckin' wit' ya boi like the Hollywood dough |
| Everything big, no comin' up short |
| Jack the buzzer beater up, all net, half court |
| The game winning shot, your name sayin', not |
| That same skinny thot you got, she be in and out |
| She never spit it out either, we call her Poke-mouth |
| Big mouth bass, start to smash that ass |
| I build a bear before I build a bitch |
| I take her to the mall and fill her with the sugar dick |
| With the same lips give a nigga sugar whits |
| Give me brain, so intelligent with plenty sense |
| I took her innocence, yeah she was turnt out |
| And by the time I gave her back she was burnt out |
| Like the tires on the Huracan, you ain’t good Antwan |
| Or better yet, stay great, we stay puttin' on |
| You’re hotter than July (super hot) |
| Super colder than December (so cold) |
| You got me dancin' |
| The dancefloor tells no lies |
| Give them something to remember |
| You got me dancin' |
| Please don’t stop movin' your feet |
| While the music’s hot on that ecstacy |
| We can dance all night, till we both get weak |
| Come on, come on |
| Stayin' fresh that’s the gameplan |
| Out the oven cause we never microwavin' |
| We break it up like the smile of Michael Strahan |
| And keep shinin' like the glove on Michael J hand |
| I do not play man, sure I’ll eat your ass up quick |
| I’m on that boss rap shit, they on that toss salad |
| Old chick, I sees ya nigga and I delete her |
| I used to have a bench full of bitches but didn’t need 'em |
| But still fill arenas and killin' the coliseum |
| ATLiens, they on top of ya human beings |
| From the mothership, I’m on some other shit |
| Lowkey like the blow soul back in '86 |
| But we don’t sell dope, we pimp ink pens |
| To provoke the folks and keep 'em thinkin' |
| What is you drinkin', or better yet |
| Do you really know the meaning of life or are you sleeping |
| You’re hotter than July (super hot) |
| Super colder than December (so cold) |
| You got me dancin' |
| The dancefloor tells no lies |
| Give them something to remember |
| You got me dancin' |
| You’re hotter than July (super hot) |
| Super colder than December (so cold) |
| You got me dancin' |
| The dancefloor tells no lies |
| Give them something to remember |
| You got me dancin' |
| Please don’t stop movin' your feet (you got me dancin') |
| We can dance all night, till we both get weak, come on |
| (You got me dancin') |
| Morning, we don’t stop till the morning |
| We don’t stop, keep it going |
| We gonna see it through |
| And the rest is up to you |