Lyrics:
soul
And precious like pure gold
You make me feel so euphoric girl
Intoxicated by your love
Head over heels, bout the things you do
Always longing for
of pretend
Like the cowboy game, where the boy is the sheriff
And Biff is the bandit king
It always seemed to end
With the outlaws down in the jail
By
We Like Dem Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls
[Master P]
I'm country mayne, I'll punch ya brain
I'll roll with the boys that'll pluck ya mayne
You get money,
Whatever better to tell ya weather comin'
I prefer girls to reign all over the world
And not rain like, rain man or rain like rain dance
Or rain like
Bombs over Baghdad
Uno, dos, tres, it's on
Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone?
Like that there Boi and will still stay street
Big things
but admire
I'm head over heels got you heels by my head
Catching feels while we Netflix and chill in the bed
You got me feeling like a winner
So in
a minute, head over heels trippin'
And after a while, your boy catching real feelings
I got a big bite, and now it's time to reel in
Our potential through
kissin me, holdin and caressin me
Slowly undressin me and slidin ever so gently
Damn, I'm in love, and I'm head, over heels
for a man, that's a man,
Bombs over Baghdad
Uno, dos, tres, it's on
Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone?
Like that there Boi and will still stay street
Big things
Bombs over Baghdad
Uno, dos, tres, it's on
Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone?
Like that there Boi and will still stay street
Big things
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
Diss Kartel and Pantan
Push yuh head up inna yuh mudda pussy like tampon
Yeah, big up Buju Banton
When boy a kick like Jackie Chan over Hong Kong
up
All the home boys just can't get enough
She's a Ph.D., don't even stop
In the back like that goin (top, top, top)
I won't say white girl, won't
smoke again
Ayo, who's that, it's Lil EZ
Back from the dead, eggs over easy all over his head
I can cook you an omelette and shove it down your throat
and go ala la la la
Girl my head space is limited, ain't even room in the back of my mind
That's why I ain't thinking about you,
I don't got time and I
They're all resting down in cornwall -- writing up their memoirs
For a paper-back edition of the boy scout manual.
Of course
So you ride yourselves over
That power
Oh, oh oh
Holla, holla, holla, holla at yo boy
Like yo dad when he's pissed off
Got flow, I could make a cripple crip walk
Niggas
difference is that you do not own it (skrrt)
I can just tell by the way that you drivin' it
I pull up in that car just like it's stolen, yeah
Came a long
celibate with her heart
She telling me that these niggas showed her light
Not head over heels but she give head over night
Bad gal yeah she finer than
moments, and I live for a livin'
But this for the girls that barely let me get to first base
On some ground ball shit
Cause now I run my city on some town
days that were better
Then we go out
And you walked into my life
Like you walk into a room
Guess who's the fool
And I'm head over heels
I fell in
the crew
And she pop that pussy
Like a good little bitch
Twerking that ass
While she sucking a dick
If you that kinda girl
I'd like to find out
Don't matter
a pussy ass bitch
No entertaining, Don Julio
I'm spreading FL like flames (Flames!)
And I ain't talking no studio
You either Live by Night, or die
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