| You’re the one baby girl, I’ve never been so sure
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| Your skin’s so pure, the type men go for
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| The type I drive the Benz slow for
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| The type I be beepin the horn rollin down the windows for
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| Never been no whore
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| So to get you in closed doors, I buy you everything in those stores
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| This and that, and those yours
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| As long as Fabolous the only one you let that grin show for
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| You ain’t gotta spend no more, I’m a put a rock on your hand
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| You ain’t gotta say «we just friends"no more
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| I shine, you shine, it never been no flaws
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| I ain’t like most who just wanna get in those drawers
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| 'Cause every king need a queen
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| And with me and you girl I ain’t tryna let a thing in between
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| It ain’t a thing, nahmean, chicks hate, show 'em the ring and the green
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| And let your middle finger be seen, it’s on
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| (Chorus — Jagged Edge)
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| Girl I’d trade it all, money, cars and everything
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| All, even give up my street dream (my dream)
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| All, anything to have you on my team (I don’t care baby)
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| All, baby girl I’d trade it all (I'd trade it, yeah)
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| Even give up my good green
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| All, and I’d give the watch and pinky ring (oh yeah)
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| All, anything to have you on my team
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| All, baby girl I’d trade it all
|
| (Fabolous)
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| Uh, don’t front ma', you know the way I ball’s to pick and roll
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| Like Stockton and Malone when we play the mall
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| I be goin out my way to call
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| 'Cause I love the way your hips make your jeans seem like they too small
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| Them see-through tops with your titties exposed
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| When you kick off them shoes there ain’t bitty whose toes as pretty as those
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| That blonde hair look good, straight down, bun or the braids
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| And I ain’t gon' talk about them light-browns under your shades
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| Bust right, thus tight
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| Got a thick set of thighs and struts like… uh
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| Yo' the game taught this brother to mack
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| But I think I slipped when I saw them full lips covered with Mac
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| You got everything that others would lack
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| Along with the F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S
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| Your patience I personally admire
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| 'Cause I started out a player now I’m 'bout to have my jersey retired, for real
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| (Chorus)
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| There ain’t no «mights"or «maybe»
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| Had i did wrong, so I’m a make sure it’s right for my baby
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| You know how tight that my day be
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| And how long and stressin them flights to L.A. be
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| Ain’t no rumor gon' get back to your friends
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| Before I let a nigga disrespect you I be back in the pen
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| Front to back you a ten
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| You got me thinkin 'bout puttin a car seat in back of the Benz, uh
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| (Chorus) 3x |