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Missy Elliott
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Gossip Folks (Fatboy Slim Radio Remix)
Missy Elliott Feat. Ludacris
When I rock up in the piece I ain't gotta even speak I'm a bad mama jama, goddammit, y'all people ain't gotta like me How you studying these hoes need to talk what you know And stop talking 'bout who I'm sticking and licking just mad, it ain't yours
I know y'all poor, y'all broke, y'all job just hanging up coats Step to me, get burnt like toast, y'all suckers adios amigos Halves, halves, wholes, wholes, I don't brag I mostly boast From the VA to the L.A. coast, izzy kizzy izzy, oh
I don't go out my house, shorty, you just waiting to see Who gon' roll up in the club and then report that next week Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo I know, by the time I finish this line, I'm a hear this on the radio
Musi ques, I sews on bews, I pues a twos on que zat Pue zoo, My kizzer, Pous zigga ay zee
When I pull up in my whip, y'all be like, 'Who that is?' I'm driving, I'm gliding, I'm sliding Y'all keep talking 'bout there she is I'm gripping these curbs, skurr, did ya heard?
I love 'em, my feathers, my furs, ah, I fly like a bird Chicken heads on the prowl, who you trying fuck now? Naw, you ain't getting loud Better calm down for I smack your ass down
I need my drum bass high Has to be my snare strings horns And I need my Tim sound right left Izzy kizzy, looky here
I don't go out my house, shorty, you just waiting to see Who gon' roll up in the club and then report that next week Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo I know, by the time I finish this line, I'm a hear this on the radio
I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see Who gon' roll up in the club and then report that next week
Yeah, uh huh, okay, once upon a time in College Park Where they live life fast and they scared of dark There was a little nigga by the name of Cris Nobody paid him any mind, no one gave a shit
Knowing he could rap, no one lifted a hands So he went about his business and devised a plan Made a CD then he hit the block 50 thousand sold, seven dollars a pop
Hold the phone, three years later Stepped out the swamp, with ten and a half gators Now, all around the world on the microphone Leaving the booth smelling like Barberry cologne
Still riding chrome, got bitches in the kitchen, never home alone And he's on the grind, please let me know if he's on your mind And respect you'll give me, Ludacris I live loud like Timmy Uh, had to clear these rumors, I got a headache and it's not a tumor
Get up on my lap and get my head sucked tight Sprayed, so I never let the bed bugs bite I'm hard to the core, core to the right Drop down turn around pick a bale of cotton
I don't go out my house, shorty, you just waiting to see Who gon' roll up in the club and then report that next week Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo I know, by the time I finish this line, I'm a hear this on the radio
I don't go out my house, shorty, you just waiting to see Who gon' roll up in the club and then report that next week Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo I know, by the time I finish this line, I'm a hear this on the radio
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