Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Sickalicious , by - Fabolous. Release date: 31.01.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sickalicious |
| Uh, uh, yeah, yeah, yeah |
| Yeah, uh, uh, yeah, uh, uh |
| They call me G H E T T O |
| Get Black Star power, like B E T shows |
| I’m usually pullin' up in the G T slow |
| Flashing my ring finger with the E T glow |
| I’m that nucca, act rucka |
| Certified plat nucca |
| Semi-auto, gat bucca |
| Take that fucka, lay flat sucka |
| I’m the Negro, amigo |
| Get every bay from Tampa to Montigo |
| They say I got the lifestyle, and the E glow |
| I’m in the blow range, no matter where he go |
| I’m that homie, gat on me |
| I’m the kid not that phony |
| Anybody that know me |
| Knows I’m here to get that money, yeah |
| Hey, now get that money, keep them rims spichey |
| 24 shoes on my Hummer |
| And they fitting tight, Fabolous and Missy, Sickalicious right? |
| If you a hater make my gun go, blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka |
| They call me F A B O L O U S |
| You just lay down slow, nigga |
| Know this before this, trey pound blow |
| Spit game, get dames to lay down low |
| I’m da poppy cholo |
| The cops say the tops on the drops is to low |
| I shop till I drop, when I’m coppin' new clothes |
| Bop in the hop but don’t stop to use hoes |
| I’m that new dude, that include |
| Making sure silencers in the gat is screwed |
| With an, 'It Don’t Even Matter' mood |
| And a, 'Fuck You, Pay Me', attitude |
| I’m that young boy, that slung boy |
| That’ll have 'em saying, where you get that from, boy? |
| I’m still leaving niggas, at one choice |
| So, run when you hear, that gun noise, blat |
| You say you rich, then come and talk that shit to me |
| (Blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka) |
| Buy your DVD’s and TV’s but I like shoes on my Jeep |
| (Blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka) |
| 24-inch wheels and a good gold grill in the front |
| (Blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka) |
| Gotta closet made for big clothes |
| Gotta do more then treat me to lunch, uh huh |
| Hey, now get that money, keep them rims spichey |
| 24 shoes on my Hummer |
| And they fitting tight, Fabolous and Missy, Sickalicious right? |
| If you a hater make my gun go, blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka |
| They call me William H period Bonnie |
| I ride in a seven series with Tommie’s |
| I make another on of America’s hotties |
| And I’m that serious, Mommy |
| I’m the one like the Jet Li flick, the private jet ski’s sick |
| The motors on the jet ski’s quick |
| The clips in the sets be thick |
| And I done slipped more shots in then Gretzky’s stick |
| I’m the one like Penny Hardaway’s number |
| That’s why dudes say it’s hard to keep my broad away from ya |
| Once your bitch, get the god 2-way number |
| It’ll be hard to get a 'Happy Father’s Day' from ya |
| I’m the one, like the piece that’s on Nelly chain |
| You can’t reach me, I’m out of your celly range |
| Bitch, I’ll even put canary’s up in your belly chain |
| And just to beat the traffic, hop in a helly main |
| Hey, now get that money, keep them rims spichey |
| 24 shoes on my Hummer |
| And they fitting tight, Fabolous and Missy, Sickalicious right? |
| If you a hater make my gun go, blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka |