Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Told You So, artist - Chino XL. Album song I Told You So, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.09.2001
Record label: Tunecore
Song language: English
I Told You So |
A pretty smile can cover up a character |
Dirtier than Janet Jackson’s clothes |
When she played Penny on Good Times (right) |
A chick in the hood shines |
But blind to trick nigga |
That has not been exposed to this mentality of mines… |
(I find the one I want) If she step up I get her open like every piece of my mail when I was locked up Laced up stupid after I drop 'em |
Then fuck every model in Q-tip videos with the same condom |
(I never met a bitch) That faded me Cus mentally and physically God was showing off when he created me |
(Be afraid of me) |
But stop hating me cus women are loving me, I’m sorry |
That you was a virgin until your record release party (right) |
Hoes won’t admit this, but that’s groupie’s style (yeah) |
I call 'em Cleopatras, they the queens of +The Nile/denial+ |
And these trick niggas dead on 'em |
Bithces looking like Barbie doll bodies with a G.I. |
Joe head on 'em |
It’s pathetic how quickly are to get naked |
Probably infected, shieet! |
Give me the ones with good credit |
Or Dead it, Admitedly I have a fetish you could be on |
I like an ass so fat she can turn a boxer shorts to thongs |
(Is you hot from all my songs?) |
She diggin’me, Got women fingering themselves |
Thinking of women fingering themselves that are thinking of me You know what sickening me? |
(Yo dog express your feelings) |
If Eric Bennet can get Halle Berry I deserve Vannesa Williams |
It’s how it goes (*3X*) |
Tell 'em how it goes yo… |
Saafir + |
This is how it goes |
Down in the town of West Oakland keepin’hoes soaked in It’ll never be Another me, sauce see squeeze up on a hoe like |
Oh shit you got to pay me! |
That’s real talk, |
And you know what’s that fat white man name |
Ben Franklin |
The bald head nigga with the glasses… feel me I dead tricks in the game (what) |
Baptise they eyes with the reply that I ain’t fly |
Trick, bitch, I’m an astronaut |
With so much hot acid cock on the concrete |
You gotta wear sunblock (know) |
Sending these hoes like meteors (whooosh) |
By 2004 you’ll see me in a space suit |
Paper chasin’with hoes in pursuit of my boots |
Touch down on that pimp planet, floor |
(Gimmie some more) |
Up goes the flag made out of wigs and galore |
(Take that back) |
Panties are vision for male tricks on a mission to hold hoes down |
Like gravity, (ha ha), Imagine me (trick) |
Cus the way from ya’ll I’m like years with the fly gear |
And better than credit thats limitless |
For breaking a bitch I’m in the mothafucking book of Guinesses |
(Breakin'records) Under H.O.T. |
Short for: Hoold Ooooon,… Trick! |
Let me switch your? |
cre-day to mayday |
Time to show up, hoe up or blow up (blow up!) |
But you know what? |
(what) |
I gotta keep tellin’my other half |
Nigga they don’t know us, thou shall not hold trust |
I’ll pass the ass on mine, playalistically divine |
No Nickelodeon shit |
Hoe take out your clothes and get into this here? |
feronien? |
slick |
See I dont’chase these hoes, |
These hoes chase me, why chase the doe, yo Your purse comes first your ass comes last |
And I don’t know how long we gon’last |
But what you do with all your money baby |
You bring it all home to Chi… |