| It’s the rap master, last passer, the ass smacker
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| Your ass backwards, we call you bassackwards
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| Rappers flasher, cash stacker, slash actor
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| Passport pimpin', you can call me the last atlas
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| You can’t know me, can’t hold me, chicks a champ homie
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| After she dance, I lift her like a tramp trophy
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| The shit, but on the track flies, I’m that fly
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| Try me, I capsize your hat’s cap size
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| The mad supported, back supported, get your track deported
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| Platinum streets from every platinum track recorded
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| Got the lotto model, pay me if you swallow, follow
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| I’m your leader beater, that make them swallow hollows
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| 'bout this, 'bout that, I’m 'bout straps
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| If you a rapper, how’s that for a mouse trap?
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| Get the handsome ransoms, keep them dancing
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| Act like you know naughty got mansions from these damn anthems
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| (Feel) the naughty nation
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| Come on, get it, got it, we back, boy
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| Once again it’s on in your ass, boy
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| We keep them naughty shorties poppin' ass boy, that’s what you lack boy
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| Naughty, oh shit, your pussy, I see your ball prints
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| Thank for the scores, we balling along his office
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| Pitter patter, digger dagger, with a bigger swagger
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| Piss each other off, see who got the biggest bladder
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| The biggest rappers from Jers since the business shattered
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| Wicked niggas, true gangstas, and the wisdom hatters
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| Ferrari stripper, every part of me ripped up
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| Smoke a marley with liquor, quicker artery ripper
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| We do things, niggas who bang on that zoo thang
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| New slang, a true gang puffin' the pootang
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| ? |
| style, yeah, child?
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| But I bang on your forehead and I ain’t talking hairstyles
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| New click cobras, them niggas spitting venom
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| Spitting saliva, we harmonize an awkward opera
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| True hip hoppers, serve ya with liquid lava
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| You’re not a nigga, now come on, get it, we gotcha
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| I’m? |
| mash his ass with graphic atlas
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| So many these rapping bastards hip hop culture clashes
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| Come on, get it, critic, known for flippin' wicked widdit
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| Here’s my ass, you can come and get it, kiss it, get it
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| We made your grave, twelve? |
| parade
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| I’ll blow up the spot looking sharp like a suede grenade
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| Got a nasty flow, watch platinum glow
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| Fort Knox got locks harder picked than a nappy 'fro
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| I admire the trier that try to rattle the riot
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| Anthem’s acquired so you can go fire the choir
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| Half a ass, blast an asshole
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| Tussle and tackle the trunk, they call it couple Capo’s
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| Naughty bring back that feelin' bring back that
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| Naughty bring back that feelin' bring back that |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Naughty Nation , by - Naughty By Nature. Song from the album Anthem Inc., in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп