Lyrics:
in yo hoe, like a CD rom
No i ain't go to prom, but i still was a don
Dressed like a dime piece
She slaughtered my meat, yes it is deceased
I'm really
bitch like a CD
Rarely be seen, when I am, it's a Kodak
You niggas snitchin', I already know that
Make a decision by makin' decision
These niggas be
your man
Somethin' like Kris Parker
My Uzi weigh a ton
Hundred niggas on the track
Then you know I'll be the one
To tell niggas to suck cock
Run and get
Hot 98.7 Kiss FM, it's the world famous dial to pay countdown
I'm Wendy Williams
So we have $98 in Kiss Cash and the new CD by Jodeci
Let's go
Hot 98.7 Kiss FM, it's the world famous dial to pay countdown
I'm Wendy Williams
So we have $98 in Kiss Cash and the new CD by Jodeci
Let's go
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks and the drugs
It's the T.I.P,
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks and the drugs
It's the T.I.P,
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks and the drugs
It's the T.I.P,
there
Cause your family bae is like family
You by my side we gon look the best
Compatible yeah we're gon' be the best
cll the boys want her they get no
10k on a chain that's calm
Spin a nigga blocc cd rom
Send a 100 shot till he gone
No face no case unknown
She love me cuz I never took a hand out
She
will hit you, boy
Your nobody so no one will miss you
Queens start to kickin' it's too
Much to get through
Leave a nigga leakin' like an Indian ritual
shitty diss tracks back like some bad beef
I don't want it, I don't like that shit
I don't fuck wit ya weak records, you don't write that shit
You wanna
Face fucked need a spare face
I'm LA like Dom
No CD like Rom
I was getting paid I ain't go to prom
I ain't sign a deal signed with the mob
I'm bossed up
Yo you like the track
You like the track you like the track
You like the track
You like the
Go ahead girl shake it like that
Go ahead girl shake it
bashfull but this
Bastard's flow will bash a skull
And I will, cut your girl like Pastor Troy
And I don't, usually smoke but pass the 'dro
And I won't,
high
Let's get high
I flow rhymes off just like weed in your chest
Think you gotta win, don't hold your breath
Spittin' on a track with Red
high
Let's get high
I flow rhymes off just like weed in your chest
Think you gotta win, don't hold your breath
Spittin' on a track with Red
talking
Burning this shit like a CD rom me an fake bitchs never did get along
Wrote it To the beat an i killed it a song
Brybone so cold grew up in the snow
buy them
My parents want to come see my show let's fly them
Every girl asking for CDs and item
I think I like them and I wanna wife them yeah oh no
You
the leaves crunch
Almost as much as snow squeak
Hit that shit with bare feet road runnin'
Like I'm 2 miles late for the track meet at university
Thought we'd
don't go by same the rules
I'm Gucci down to the shoe
Make these bitches choose
By the flick of a wrist
Oh that boy
Just took your bitch
I know you salty
Phone up flamin' like hemorroids
Talk on CD's boy
Police will have you noid
Just avoid and ill too legal
And my peoples
I'm the boss and that's
couldn't get me groceries from the super market
So I found another target to aim at
I went from food stamps to the black a mac's
8 track cassettes the cd's
showed me love, love
Gave me everything I want, want
Now I like girls (girls, girls)
I like girls, I like girls
I like girls (girls, girls)
I like girls
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