Get up funky... huh, let me ya talk, talk about bitch
Me I'm a of a young girl's suck the emotions through my body ass butt Everytime I see her in that god dress Fell the stomach, stomach, that's what I have to confess
Ah, that's me ya you see ya Telling 'bout my stomach and my ya Ah me ya, watcha see ya Telling bout, telling me ya
This is a thing everybody knows about Every boy and bitch so myself I mustn't about to find, huh, hard to lose So me myself and I, we got no chance to
I can't tell ya what I ya This is a motherfucking problem I hate ya I can't tell ya what I ya I it but I take it but I try to surpress ya
Fuck, said fuck, fuck, fuck the facts Fuck, fuck, fuck, said fuck the facts
In addition to the point I was talking You must remember my and all my habits and my attitude So listen to the things that I've got to My is G on the B.A.S.S. B.G
Hit the bass in the face days of the week ya 'round my posse that's what everybody needs ya Me and my band, what I stay for - stay for Me and my band, that's what I pray for - for
has a use for my personality Cause if I'd loose it I stand it if you know what mean My heart is percent music that's what I feel ya - feel ya I feel the kick in my B.O.D.Y. so
I try to combine my fucking emos to the hit Try to fight it my music as hatred I try to combine my fucking to the bitch hit Try to combine it with my as hatred
What my girl, man? What about my music, Ina bona I stand that shit...