Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Boy Boy, artist - Cam'Ron.
Date of issue: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Boy Boy |
Cam: What up boy, boy? |
Guy: Ain’t nothin’boy, boy, it’s good in the hood |
Cam: What’s poppin’boy, boy? |
Guy: A lot of these cats fakin’jacks boy, boy |
My man Smit’over hear, he’s got somethin’on his mind |
Cam: 'Sup Smitty? |
Guy: This kid Smitty is acting a little silly right |
now, boy, boy |
He don’t understand this is real in the hood boy, boy |
Cam: Why you ain’t smack boy, boy? |
Guy: Well he got somethin’on his mind, you know what I’m sayin'? |
I’m tryin’show a little love to him boy, boy, he need to understand |
I’m tryin’let 'em live boy, boy, this is real ya’understand? |
You need to stop playin’with me like that boy, boy |
Cam: Yeah, I’m a holla at nigga, boy, boy |
Cops bagged me one night, looking for the blow |
Wen’t from Bronxhouse to bookings, bookings to the show |
From the show to the crib, to the kitchen cookin’Os |
Kitchen to the car, to the street lookin’for Hos |
Lookin’for hos, to straight up baggin’one |
From my game in her brain, ain’t no wagon, hun (Ain't no wagon bitch) |
From the wagon, garage to the house |
Dinnin’room, kitchen, kitchen to the couch |
Couch to the bedroom, my dick’s in her mouth |
Bedroom to front door, this bitch getting out (See ya') |
Front door, to You know where the Jacuzzi is? |
Dress cooley, but usually the Coogi kid, bouchie kid |
Tell ya boo-bee, a doo-bee did |
She a houchie groupie Cooley is Who am I? |
Come on, can’t be for-reala |
Went from Cam to Killa, killa to scrilla, Gorilla |
From killa to Sky-Scrappers, from sky-scrappers |
High papers, that’s my nature |
Do five you now, y’all die later |
Come to your wake, look at you; |
Hi hater |
From the wake to lot, another boogie |
From the lot to the hill, to cop somethin’ugly (Ugly) |
From the hill to that state Dakota |
From Dakota to the corna, get that bakin’soda, KILLA |
Yo, where you from dog? |
Harlem boy, boy |
Oh this nigga getting’money? |
Holla boy, boy |
Oh this cat over front? |
Fuck boy, boy |
He keep that shit up. |
fucking drop boy, boy |
Oh you got that hydro? |
You lyin’boy, boy |
If you need that dope, though? |
We got boy, boy |
But watch your back… from the cops’boy, boy |
Cause they paper? |
They wanna stop boy, boy |
Aiyoo, I heard you out there shorty. |
slingin'boy, boy |
Oh MY god, oh boy, boy |
Be careful of the motherfuckin’boys, boy |
Me though? |
I run THEM boys, boy |
Lloyd, Floyd, Roy, Soy, Black Bridicks |
Bitches too, joy toy, what |
Cat like you? |
Call you a Gladiator |
Give her oral, and you happy, Glad-he-ate-her (Stupid) |
Put? |
on the pussy, she a masturbator |
Put my dick in her mouth, that’s what fascinate her |
I’m a legendary now, past the player, past the player |
Got the rock? |
Pass that player |
I’m like Betty Crocker with cake, that’s in layers |
I had city issues before, ask the mayor (Ask him) |
He said Cam’ron, please stop this crack behavior |
(Shut the fuck up, man) |
He ain’t know '96, I had a knack for Gators |
I come through, laugh at haters, bitches too |
Wanna act, setback, relax a player |
Cause all these hos jelly you hard |
When your purlieus are hard |
And the Chanel, Sklies to Scarfs |
I stick to their stomachs, their belly’s will barf |
And I take them to the telly where their belly will force |
Why fucking me like that? |
Calm down that’s my uterus |
my serfix, my ovaries Relax, I’m doin’this |
Welcome to exclusiveness |
You about to take a week off, the ultimate freak off |
Hit Jimmy, Jeulz, Sean, and Zek off |
Wait a minute ma', wipe that cum on your cheek OFF |
I hate me a filthy ho, but I like me a silly ho That way you really blow |
Havin’to fuck cats, she don’t really know |
Then take all her money; |
you don’t feel me, though |
You don’t understand my pimp-ery |
You love them you got sympathy, fuck that, I’m into me Yo, where you from dog? |
Harlem boy, boy |
Oh this nigga getting’money? |
Holla boy, boy |
Oh this cat over front? |
Fuck boy, boy |
He keep that shit up. |
fucking drop boy, boy |
Oh you got that hydro? |
You lyin’boy, boy |
If you need that dope, though? |
We got boy, boy |
But watch your back… from the cops boy, boy |
Cause they paper? |
They wanna stop boy, boy |