Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hoe Cakes, artist - MF DOOM. Album song MM..FOOD, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.11.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Hoe Cakes |
I got this girl and she wants me to duke Her |
I told her I’d come scoop her around 8, she said Super! |
that sounds great, shorty girl’s a trooper |
no matter what I need her to do, she be like Super! |
own his own throne, the boss like King Koopa |
on the microphone he flossed the ring Super! |
average emcees is like a TV blooper |
MF DOOM… hes like D.B. |
Cooper |
out wit the moolah, I let her get a outfit |
jus to cool her off she said niggaz ain’t about shit |
I wonder if she meant it, I doubt it the way it be in her mouth, she can’t live witout it and can’t live with this, handle yo bidness |
villain’ll stay on a scandalous hoes shit list |
one pack of cookies please Mr. Hooper |
its fun smackin rookies, he is the Super! |
look like a black wookie when he let his beard grow |
weirdo, brown skin’ded always kept his hair low |
rumor has it its a S-curl accident |
DOOM was always known to keep the best girls backs bent |
some say its the eyes, some say the accent |
a lotta guys wonder where they stacks went |
I call her thunder thighs, with the fatty swolla |
only mess wit high rollas, do what daddy told her |
no matter the city she with me to do the thang thang |
work in the coochie, hooptie chitty chitty bang bang |
same name on the titty as on the name ring |
pretty like Baby D off all in the same gang |
keep my eye on her really don’t trust her |
but I treat her like a daughter, taught her how to bust a nut |
and the heat to turn beef to horsemeat chalupa |
teach her how to hold it, of course he is the Super! |
see most cats treat her like foofer |
or beat her to a stupor, take it from the Super! |
ya need to make her feel cuter |
and lay down the G like Luther, everythin’ll be Super! |
do for her, keep her in a new fur |
so she look sweet when she go to meet the Super! |
got the buddha get the Grenadiers, twist it put it in the air, come 'ere, kiss it listen here scooter, let her try to bag you |
when she’s on the rag never let her fry the Ragu |
which will have you under some type of spell crying dag boo |
her name on ya back in her tattoo |
whether a bourgie broad, nerd hoe, street chick |
don’t call her wifey if you met her at the freaknick |
you don’t want her don’t waste her time, I’ll dupe her |
oh and be a father to ya child like the Super! |
he keep his hoes in check |
sends 'em out to get glows from off frozen necks |
tell 'em take his clothes, leave him posin nekkid for real |
better yet, get 'em for the check off the record deal |
find out where he keep the tek an the blue steel |
make sure for extra wreck let 'em know how you feel |
and while he’s runnin down to all star weekend to ball |
I’m comin with the U-HAUL!(Super!) |
(.Super!) (…Super!) |