| Oooooh… do re mi
|
| Fa so la ti do yeah I’m doin' vocals
|
| Intimate Turn the music up, yeah c’mon!
|
| Yeah! |
| c’mon in, yeah welcome
|
| Haa! |
| yeah! |
| yeah!
|
| Uhh, ya undastand me?
|
| Hey yoooooouu… DJ motherfuckin' Quik, yeah
|
| You know me, X to the Z, yeah (arah!)
|
| Ahh, it don’t stop, huhh yeah
|
| Some new shit, come on…
|
| We just want you to bounce to
|
| This shit for a minute, yeah
|
| Ain’t no rush… relax yourself…
|
| Relieve your stress, here we go
|
| Yes…
|
| Bounce, come on bounce, come on boooounce…
|
| Put your pussy in my faaaace…
|
| And let me lick you 'till i
|
| Feel the taaaaste…
|
| (Verse one)
|
| I am the master of the ceremony
|
| So my territory be off limits to gimmicks
|
| And niggas with wack lyrics
|
| And tracks that lack spirits
|
| So pop your collar (pop your collar!)
|
| Fuck a dollar, I’m at ya tough and hard to swallow
|
| Hard act to follow never the role model the what not
|
| Set up shots slipknot my way to the top, pa-da pow!
|
| Then changed the direction of it (yeah)
|
| From the niggas that hate it to niggas that love it
|
| What choo want from it
|
| A reputation a luxurious life
|
| Maybe find you a hoe that you could transform into a house wife
|
| You loose stripes when you recite thru your wind pipes
|
| With action cameras and lights and your shit ain’t tight
|
| It’s on on sight thug rugged the love of it (yeah)
|
| Push it shlingd’it shove it in the vein we dope
|
| Remain with smoke, remote with Tash and Ras Kass
|
| Six months of full blast bitch, gimme dat ass… ha ha
|
| Put your pussy in my faaace… and i’ll
|
| (Let me lick you laaady)
|
| Lick you 'till i feel the taaaste…
|
| (Would you, would you)
|
| Feel the taste…
|
| Feel the taste… of lovin' you
|
| Feel the taste…
|
| Feel the taste… of lovin' you
|
| (Verse two)
|
| I’m a royalty check cashin'
|
| Coup deville smashin', pretty titty assassin
|
| Lookin' for some action
|
| If you want compassion, I’ll be pussy basshin'
|
| Baby hit me up like 'yo, what the fuck happened?'
|
| 'Was it somethin' i did? |
| was it my three kids?
|
| You don’t love me no more, was it the wave or the wig?'
|
| I’m tryna be nice, so i’m sittin' there thinkin'
|
| But i had to tell the bitch 'baby your breath be stinkin' (ha ha)
|
| Niggas, spendin' they last, tryna hustle for ass
|
| You bought a Cadillac truck, but you can’t buy gas
|
| Insurance is a bitch, i hope you don’t crash
|
| But when you do, let me buy them rims and slap 'em on my jag
|
| When it come to fasion, don’t make me start flashin'
|
| Break a bitch off, and have that whole tire slashin'
|
| I’m leather, you’re leather, together we be clashin'
|
| Quik! |
| hit 'em with the chorus, homie start bashin'!
|
| Put your pussy in my faaace… and i’ll
|
| (Let me lick you laaady)
|
| Lick you 'till i feel the taaaste…
|
| (Would you, would you)
|
| Feel the taste…
|
| Feel the taste… of lovin' you
|
| Feel the taste…
|
| Feel the taste… of lovin' you |