Lyrics:
look good, do you hear my man?
And if you can't take that ya chump ya own hand
You one-girl-at-a-time getting M.C
So how could you think that you rank
look good, do you hear my man?
And if you can't take that ya chump ya own hand
You one-girl-at-a-time getting M.C
So how could you think that you rank
with brass fucking knuckles
Finish him with an uppercut, K.O. the other marks, then drive off in a Lambo’
I’m gonna leave ‘em in the dust
Your bitch
peace
Then he put his hands in my pants, felt them thick lips, and got wood
He said, "Kylie wuss good?" I said, "Miley wuss good?"
I said, "Could you
And suddenly an eggshell cracks on your head
You hear it moan. Fly on home.
You're surreal
Far too surreal
Far too cerebral
I like my girls real
Ho CHi Mihn
the town of Dingle
I shook her hand to say good-bye
A tinker man stepped up beside me
And belted me in my left eye
Keep your hands off red-haired Mary
She
feet
And keep me on my arse
Fidget quickly, flinching, clicking
Knuckles made of brass
Tryna fill my head and heart
With the liquid in my glass
Oi I'm
over areas
Buried us
In a system built by Giants
Or figments of imagination
Just to keep us quiet
I'm sorry I ain't lying
I'm just really high and I be
and your fam' shot
I keep my eyes on my rear view, gotta get a clear view
Watch what you do when the five O near you
[Bridge: Wyclef Jean (Elephant
If you know what's good
If you know what's good
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
I said, put your filthy hands all
If you know what's good
If you know what's good
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
I said, put your filthy hands all
hickeys on your chest
Then turn around and blast you with a .33 shot Tec
You couldn`t rap, you was wack from the get-go
So you got bumped off by my head
a real nigga
Take the canned foods
I'm tryna get a real dinner
Get your money stacked
Your paper keep away the feds
Keep it real and fuck a hater
What my
to introduce myself
Queen L-A-T-I-F-A-H is my name
Jersey, what's poppin', we ain't gon' stop and
Keep'em heads boppin', the remix droppin'
Big girl, big
right to be a lil' pissed off
He picked you up, y'all got in argument, he got his shit off
My energy like, "Get lost," your energy just want peace
I
call it Molotov!
I'm feelin' higher than pup the clouds and I keep going
Got my hands on the sky, I'ma spread the orbitLotta brain power, man I'm so
you's a hoe, you's a hoe Mystikal!
I pack ya up like there's nothin' to be
Down like a street, steady re-loadin' my weapon
Like a brass knuckle, and my
(Yup)
And and He is The Light (Light)
He keeps my life bright (Bright)
And now my sky's lit up
Even in the night (Bling)
CHORUS
Boys
Girls
Man
I can understand
They like to stress a brotha out, man we cuss each other out
But you crossin' the line by puttin your hands on 'em
And nobody ever
receives a remix every season
So when my enemies peep it next, we can still keep it fresh
I'm a regular school girl in most other ways
Up late, so I race out
on the rain
So I don't put on a cover
Trap girl, pussy good
So I don't put on a rubber
Sunlight hit the ice
Make it glisten off the wrists
Children in my
the beginning
It Illmaculately ended shortly
Now click your heels twice and
Get back to Kansas Dorothy
It's funny he says my head is misshapen
Peteyou look like
off the meter
Play towards regulate laws with heavyweight broads
Don't jock niggaz who floss, money ain't yours
Jealous of yourself, watermelon
off the meter
Play towards regulate laws with heavyweight broads
Don't jock niggaz who floss, money ain't yours
Jealous of yourself, watermelon
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