| Aiyo, I couldn’t get enough from the way she smell
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| Was it Baby Phat, J. Lo, or straight Chanel
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| Her face belongs in a Luther video, Never Too Much
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| The way she smile, her face look pretty, though
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| Hands is soft, feet, no calluses
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| Her father owned six Palestine palaces
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| Laying out in New York, plush villas in Vegas
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| Greatest designer wear, son, she sport the latest
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| So I, pause the smooth talk, made her a drink
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| Blew her a kiss, as I sat down, she smiled and winked
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| Stood up, grabbed my hand, what up, slid ya boy to the bedroom
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| Popped the suitcase, I’m in the lead room
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| This check was loaded, equipped, with fifths
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| Porcelain handles with horse back kicks, whispered
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| «You know what, Ghost, I do hits» But niggas get fooled
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| By the sexyness, I’m a real gritty bitch
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| Killa Lipstick, my femme fatale, with the biscuits
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| A hit chick, now I’m number one on her hitlist
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| She killing the game, cuz she the business
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| Type of chick that love you to death, then leave no witness
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| Killa, I call you Killa cuz you slay me
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| Killa, you murda, mami? |
| Ooh, you such a fucking lady
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| Killa, drive me half crazy, let’s go half on this baby
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| Killa Lipstick, k-k-killa
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| Yeah, this white chick from L.A., she smelled like Downy
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| Had her best friend named Jade, from Rockland County
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| Double cokeheads who love cartoons, type chicks who eat pussy
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| Listen to Prince and play with they wombs
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| Flight attendant out of Delta Airline, get money girls
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| Travelled the world, only one did jail time
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| Jade, her father’s a judge, same nigga in the O.J. |
| case
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| When he tried on the glove, but uh, in this scenario, four A. M
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| The bars closed, now we at it again
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| Drunk nigga, come out I’m popping mad shit, he’s past lit
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| Nancy Drew, drew out her purse, the blue steel ratchet
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| Didn’t even say shit, she blasted, barrel smoking
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| Shot the Henny out his hand for laughing
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| These are my bitches, Nancy and Jade
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| Natural born killas be letting they guns blaze… god damn!
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| Look she tired of the same old basic, let’s face it
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| This is how she wants to be laced, I’m raping it
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| Anywhere, I’m taking it, she loving how the gangsta flex
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| This is thug sex, Iking it, nasty talk
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| As she liking it, spanking it, she biting the sheets
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| She’s a freak, my view from the embassy suites
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| Is off the beach shore, Dirty would’ve love you, mami
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| 'You like it raw?' |
| A tear drop, fucking you slow
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| I see your knees knock, your love is so sweet
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| If I switch beats, and hit you with angles, you might breathe
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| You know the Godbody make healthy wise seeds
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| You, plus a glass of weed, is all he need
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| You could travel so far, look, maybe book a flight to Mars
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| To escaping at, one forty two?
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| They take Jet Blue for two, into Long Beach
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| Rain lifted whipping the port, from when I touch
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| Look something nice up in the stash, hit a Dutch |