| Uh, yeah, yeah
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| Harlem, Postaboy, let’s go
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| Harlem, PB, Pete Rock, woo woo
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| Uhh, let’s go
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| I’mma show you how we get down like, with this pound like
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| Since I’m in a Caddy P this what it sound like
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| Uhh, yeah this what you clowns like
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| And since you’re on my dick nigga this what uptown like
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| Geah, I’m on top of my A game
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| Blew two hundred thou', got it back on the haste gang
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| Posta back in the building
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| The 106 hall of famer t-shirt is back in the ceiling
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| I’m a new artist but it’s like I’m platinum plus
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| E’ry day, spend superstar rapper bucks
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| Go to the dealer, cop trucks after trucks
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| High as a kite, rollin dutch after dutch
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| Honey leavin the scene with me
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| Now she wanna get a room, but at 119 with me
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| Lowrider jeans, fanny pokin out the pants
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| Do the snake, the wop and the uh-oh dance, ohh!
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| Make way it’s the Postaboy
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| Yeah the Postaboy, with the Wonder Boy
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| We got the ladies in the club makin all that noise
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| Winning Team outside, you don’t see our toys (woo woo)
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| Make way it’s the Postaboy
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| Yeah the Postaboy, with the Wonder Boy
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| They got the ladies in the crowd makin all that noise
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| Beep beep, I’m a boss, I don’t drive my toys
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| You can find me uptown, uptown, low in cement B’s
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| Rollin up in the club like the
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| I don’t know why you hate me, I’m tryin to date me
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| A hot mami like Tammy at AE
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| Jump, I say that I’m focused
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| And just how thirsty all these hoes is
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| Wide door knockers with the rings in they noses
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| I J, then they knockin at my door like Jehovahs
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| I start checkin my peep mo'
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| I come from Harlem, the home of the hustler negroes
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| Like, R.P., Alpo
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| Jim Ice, Nicky Barnes, and my nigga Bumpy John
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| All I need is a pair of my Pro*Keds
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| Half moon part and a two-wheel moped
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| Quarter water, Jimmy Chu’s for my honey
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| It’s the Postaboy, Winning Team, good money
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| I said throw yo' lighters in the motherfuckin urr
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| The roof on fire and not a muh’fucker curr
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| There’s so many bunnies and I’m seein over her
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| Every time I turn around, couple durr, couple durr
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| Hey! |
| I’m mean mixin my two-step
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| Now little birdie wanna call me Hugh Hef'
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| Pimp so hard 'til there ain’t no juice left
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| I been around the world, I done toured the U. S
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| Here we go, c’mon
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| Now here we go, c’mon
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| Now here we go, c’mon
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| Now here we go, c’mon
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| Yeah! |