Damn nigga, wrong wit you
[Ras
(I reign) I more cop than Johnny tanquery with o.j. Sportin' bruno Not but filthy like Chritstian Dior Infiniti QX4, yours Of course, in the abdomen of pretty women Love to love ya, Timbaland When in the Like three strikes in the ninth I rock satin boxers, cotton socks and The game he kick, special couldn't return Got you wild like a Burn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a Sosa, kosher, nostra, keyser And got a thing for rehabilitating Who keep their hair and nails And they waxed I that, you got a man, but you want a homie Love a friend, my sentiments Get at me
[Karida Johnson]
I like style, can we kick it, oh wow Baby, so you can get at me
[Ras Kass] I got no game, just the women Understand my story
I got a man, but we can still be So you can get at me, baby, baby-bay,
Two
Some make you happy just to be alive Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the Drive, like hitting In the pin no spot I survive drama and know when to lick shots Keep a top notch just a call away from my crotch Never brought sand to the Cause these is baywatch (true) You how we do Satin lingerie I see Now she barely kiss you Leaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I you boo) Your wife was poultry and sultry That's the rhyme and reason why we committed I swear, womens from bel-air to welfare up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air Her shoulda named her Casino She got the in the front Poke her in the
Verse
You know my steez Dark and creole, I'm 'bout it without the Master P dough But see though, my tax bracket and increasin Make no You cant get a slice if you don't the cake To trick My silly ex-bitch transport For twenty percent - She dressed up with no to go While I'm blowin up dress like Marilyn Monroe For show, at my girl party, But I think she me like a nazi Now I'm servin', she got me under Like Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low Actin' Illuminati Don't get mad, I'm only being Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras) You Then freak me, slightly the hips And blow me a kiss with your lips Get at me
Get at me