Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dangerous Mouths, artist - Missy Elliott. Album song Da Real World, in the genre R&B
Date of issue: 30.03.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: ATG, Atlantic
Song language: English
Dangerous Mouths |
Good riddance, to niggas and bitches bullshittin |
I house MC’s like baths and full kitchens, ready or not |
Doc, hood lynchin, icey flows, I wrtie with wool mittens |
Its two not one, Missy dot dot com, come once in the blue like free hot lunch |
So once its on, turn it up, chickens flockin in Shoppin at birds are us, murderous, don’t blame me, blame the music |
I write with napalms in my hands, flame the fuses, like ca psss, off you go |
I’m nice battin, I practice when the park is closed |
I’m that man who squats out of jeeps and vans |
Jump to roof to roof on the TV cam, I fuck a model |
I go out with the cheapest tramps, pussy have me trippin |
Like Kima, Keisha and Pam, I remain cool like, like open hous on a school night |
Animal House gettin thrown out for food fights, PPP strictly don’t give a fuck |
An Brick City niggas strictly don’t give a fuck |
Let me intervene, come between, like dick through your jeans |
Hang down to your knees, its mwa the don-wan, carry on, D.A.N to the danger |
Y’all MC’s in a whole lot of danger, change up all your rhymes you need beats |
My beats you see completely unique, forgive thee |
See its the shots of Henessey thats in me, Reggie Noble through after me It takes two to tingle, and two to fuck |
I done fucked in Range Roves to Isuzu trucks, used to move weight |
Now you makin moves to duck, built solid without bolts, screws and nuts |
Pussy tight jiffy lube it up, Doc came up, hoes use to hang up Now my arm close hang up, my crew is deeper than Karl Kani pockets |
We don’t buy bullets, we ask what size rockets, for thee occasion |
One shot will have you ravin', like Symone when the four four is blown |
Two minutes later I’ll make it hotter, snap you from the vine |
To my um blada a boom glada |
So what you wanna do, what you wanna do Yo I got the chicken, the brew taken next, an much room Def Squad in the house |
Drop you drawers, tell your boyfriend ease up, and park his car |
I'm from the south you better watch your mouth, Its the M. I The S. I, if you try then you die, I don't take no mercy on you suckers so Would you still be in love baby, if I |
cut your throat, cut the jokes |
I ain’t got no love for yo, no friends with those, who imitate me ya bold |
My style I own, I’ma have to steal your flow, you know me Joe |
I gotta say no more, BITCH! |
Thats right nigga, Its Misdemeanor here, Redman, Timbaland uhh |
Muthafucka! |
3 triple zero, the Matrix baby, uhh, I’m out |