Luyện nghe bài hát Pocketbook

Don't me hit you with my pocketbook
Say it
Don't make me hit you with my
Check out here

Lookin' at my body I bet you 'bout it
Don't you wanna how I get down?
Take a number baby, you ain't the only
to get up under my skirt now

Rockin' all your hot shit,
Thinkin' you're God's gift to woman
More a buzz in my ear
Shoo fly bother me

I got my hair in a pony and they on me
me I can get 'em off
They say I stride a model, curves like a bottle
Watch me as I hit the wall and I 'em say

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't me hit you with my pocketbook

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Da, da, da, da, make me

Tell you baby, he ain't holding the weight
he got the cake and no knife
Ain't nobody cuttin' so cut it out, cut it out,

So you don't know my now, got it
Lookin' at me from the waste down, it
Said I'mma pill to swallow, fella
But I can make you feel

I got my hair in a pony tail and on me
me I can get 'em off
They say I stride like a model, like a bottle
Watch me as I hit the and I make 'em say

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
make me hit you with my

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Hey, hey, get it

Said you got a lot of nerve, playing with my boy
Do you always speak before you
Lucky me, I know the game, I'mma flip my hair and walk
If you me it's on and poppin'
'Cause I you're gettin outta pocket
it 'fore you make me

Before I make you do what girl, you know you it
Your body's nice, but eh you need some on it
So find a matress so we can start jukin' on it, on it
Baby 'cause tonight's the
For you to up on the mic 'cause I rocks the mic

It's Chris Mind Freak in the back of a
I magic, poof, do away with your clothes
Then come here and let Luda give body a rub
'Cause damn little you thick as a mug

how them southern boys like it
Hurry up and get me a punch, I spike it
Party in my Babs and yes your
So we can make a wet
And win an Oscar, all up in best dream

Girl, I you know you're drivin' me crazy
They jinglin' baby, go 'head
With two hams in your pants I think you's a crook
Let me what's under that
Don't make me hit you with my

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you my pocketbook