| Aww man you like the best thing I’ve seen all day
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| I’m saying, give me a moment
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| One minute, one minute
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| Aww, come on sis
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| Shugah Shorty why you backin up, got a nigga out here iggy actin up
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| Shugah Shorty why you backin up, got a nigga out here iggy actin up
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| Shugah Shorty why you backin up, got a nigga out here iggy actin up
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| You kept walking shugah, yo I started catchin up
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| Peeping game now I’m the nigga that you smashin up
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| Prince Poetry:
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| Damn sis, you lookin kinda, extra
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| Diggin your cat strut and your beautiful cocoa carribean texture
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| Savin all the small talk lecture, for chump light
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| You know deep inside I wanna sex you like no other
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| Chasin you down Jamaica Ave
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| A ghetto dope Cleopatra, nigga shorty was bad
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| First she was iggin me son, sliding up in strawberries
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| Suckin down a sugar cone with nuts, sprinkles and cherries
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| Excuse me miss, but-uhh pecan
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| Can I get a lick?
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| I be the Prince Po, the rebirth of slick
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| So its cool like that
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| Me and you can make it all that, four flat
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| Into this elevator exotic world with the tall black
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| Ghetto dope Don Juan ready to see reflections in Amazon rivers with ya blue
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| Watters
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| Matchin straw hat, see the picture
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| Love it but it ain’t perfect
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| We can exchange this data and later respectfully work it
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| Wheew!
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| I’m nothin but a space aged freak who wanna beam you up later this week
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| So baby whats the word
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| Shugah Shorty why you backin up, got a nigga out here iggy actin up
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| Pharoahe Monch:
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| Damn, it’s like
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| Uhh, uhh, a feeling that I get inside
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| Hard to explain it, I’m getting tongue tied like
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| I hate when I wheez, stublin over the words
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| Mumblin, fumblin over my opening line
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| Jumblin rhymes together, you know my palms get all sweaty
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| And I uhh, ahh, uhh, ahh, uhh, ahh, uhh!
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| Misses, I can’t explain how much I want to be up in it
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| And I know you ain’t had no dick in a minute
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| Oh, you smoke beedies, see you go
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| Couldn’t you see me and you stressed out in bikini’s on the beach in Tahiti?
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| See me I’m very selective even though I could be greedy
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| My main objective is to write our names together in graffiti
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| And are be (?) so y’all can see me, speedy
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| (naw see)
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| You can be my centipede like we-be-fore-play
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| Cause I gourmet my food up like eatie and Maxwell
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| Similar to that smooth kid’s C-D
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| Monch, easily the most measily unmistakable
|
| Believe me
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| Pharoahe Monch:
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| This one little chick she pissed me off
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| Comin out the store, now I’m holdin the door
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| To the Bodega, she got a little man with her
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| Figuring if I kicks it to the kid then I could get her right
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| Say listen
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| I see you around every night around seven o’clock
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| You walkin up the block (?) with the rocks on the side of the crib
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| With your kid on ya hip and ya close top notch
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| You know the thirst baby
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| First we can deal with the math if you search through your purse for a pen
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| We can blast off
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| Like Hubble Space Craft material
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| I’m aware of you and your concern about vanirial diseases
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| If it pleases you, shit, Jesus
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| I pack profolactics that stretch to my knees
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| She squinted, with a demented look behind a tented glass of a girlfriend
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| Rented, Benz E-Class vented hate
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| But still hinted like I was self centered
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| She said speak to the hand
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| Y’all know that shit that girls invented
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| Aww, see it didn’t have to be be like that wit you fiberglass
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| Backboard ass that’s mad flat bitch
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| Shugah Shorty why you backin up, got a nigga out here iggy actin up
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| Hurricane G:
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| Who that big flat piece of chocolate
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| Sparkin it, rockin it, «uhh, uhh-uhh,» rockin it
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| Prince Poetry:
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| My name is Prince, boo
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| Now few who speak don’t be true
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| But you, you got this lovely but rugged stiggy
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| How you do?
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| Get out the car, lemmie see you
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| Now what’s your name?
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| Hurricane G: «Star»
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| Prince Poetry:
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| Body was bizarre, yo Star, where you live?
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| Hurricane G:
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| Far
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| Rockaway Beach out in the boons
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| My niggas put five on it and stack all I like the Loons
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| Packin twos
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| So Pappi what you say?
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| Prince Poetry:
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| When I’m grown I don’t hump, I bone
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| I ain’t playin
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| I’m a man who likes a treat
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| Message feet of the independent Queen
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| To throw up some heat
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| Shit girl I can fix you something to eat
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| Prepare a five course meal while I’m makin the beat
|
| Already got two things in this beautiful universal common
|
| That’s lovin a tight ass fuck, and some tight ass rymin
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| So what
|
| We into somethin or your frontin, pilgrum
|
| I ain’t askin a protif be for make children
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| I’m skilled in body messages and sexual healin
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| I’m gentle, but I’m runnin wild just to make a million
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| We buildin baby
|
| So here’s enough for you to handle
|
| That’ll light you up and blow you out like candles |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shugah Shorty, artist - Organized Konfusion. Album song The Equinox, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп