| Uh-huh, you know where I’m takin this
|
| I’m takin it right there — they leave me no choice
|
| AOWWWWW! |
| Uh, uh, oh She said she was a model for a year and a half
|
| And if she took her pins out,
|
| then her hair would drop down to her calf
|
| I knew her man, he was just up North
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| and would’ve got left up North, but he was the chef up North
|
| Anyway I’m K-I-double
|
| All I do is get dough, spit flows, try to stay out of trouble
|
| If you ready we could move, just lose your man
|
| or hit the dance floor, I’ll show you how to do my dance
|
| Or I might let you play in the garden
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| Or sit up in that white thing and listen to the greatest of Marvin
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| The estate got six locations
|
| Take so long to get to the front once I missed probation
|
| And I hate to brag
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| I know ya man really wouldn’t like the Beretta but he’d hate the Mag
|
| And yeah here go a blank check, rock yourself out
|
| But in the mean time girl — knock yourself out
|
| Oh you modelin momma? |
| (knock yourself out)
|
| Wanna let ya hair down? |
| (knock yourself out)
|
| Oh you ready to move? |
| (knock yourself out)
|
| Whatchu wanna sit in the Coupe? |
| (knock yourself out)
|
| Wanna keep on dancin? |
| (knock yourself out)
|
| Wanna run in my mansion? |
| (knock yourself out)
|
| Sit in V.I.P. |
| (knock yourself out)
|
| Bitch you just wanna be seen (knock yourself out)
|
| Now you can knock yourself out like you boxin yourself
|
| Or you can get real freaky start poppin yourself
|
| And my watch got so many rocks, when you look at the time
|
| it’s sorta like you watchin yourself, uhh
|
| Front if you want, I puff a few blunts
|
| and take a cruise in a Porsche wit the trunk in the front
|
| She had the Jocko B’sure sandals, told her hop in The coupe blew her mind when she couldn’t find the door handles
|
| Attitude very high maintence; |
| check this out ma
|
| I’m runnin out of my patience
|
| Don’t sleep wit me? |
| Then don’t speak wit me And neva talk bad bout niggaz that eat wit me Aiyyo, honey know I’m waitin to leave
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| Keep dancin, cause I like how that ass shake in them capris
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| I’m like Big wit the murder mamis up in Belize
|
| but I’ll still fuck a chickenhead like Lil’Cease
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| I don’t care if they model, bet they all gon’chill
|
| First nigga to cook base on a Foreman grill
|
| And you might win some, but you just lost one
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| Kiss +Miseducates+ 'em like Lauryn Hill
|
| — (Fades) |