| — Let's go all the way daddy
|
| — I mean they gone have to rewrite the mackin book baby
|
| — cause I’m gone be the new king
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| — They gone be talkin bout us like they been talkin bout Jesus
|
| Chorus: It’s the return of the hip hop freaks
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| It’s the return of the hip hop freaks
|
| It’s the return of the hip hop freaks
|
| I wanna do the nasty, I wanna make you weak
|
| Greg Nice:
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| Now five plus five equals ten
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| Jet black hair, butter soft skin
|
| Chucky said, friends to the end
|
| Walk this way I love that strut
|
| It’s alright, uhn shake that butt
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| Nails filed so neat and petite
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| Perfume aroma smell so sweet
|
| Some may say, that sex is a sin
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| I wanna be an a witness ten
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| Umm baby tell me how I make you feel
|
| Shed some light on your sex appeal
|
| No cock block tonight, tell your girlfrien Jill
|
| Pass the prophylactic and pop the pill
|
| If the food tank stink, than use a Massengill
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| Peace to Arkill and Cypress Hill
|
| Pop that coochie at your own will
|
| Smooth B:
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| Don’t give me no lip no We came equip yo Move to this funky beat like Calypso
|
| Never was a ???
|
| Dipped in the winter, dipped in the summer
|
| Me and Greg Nice got money to make
|
| Bring the rain, snow, hail, earthquake
|
| New York, Brooklyn handle Melida
|
| Met this girly Bita, twin sister name Sherita
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| When I ate the poom poom, she asked me could I beat her
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| Not with my fist, but beat her with my peter
|
| Thought to myself, no idea sweeter
|
| Butter complexion, super erection
|
| Couldn’t make a move without protection
|
| Now I’m strapped type, ready for flight
|
| Ahhh schooly wahwah |