Luyện nghe bài hát Pocketbook

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

at my body I bet you thinkin' 'bout it
Don't you wanna know how I get
Take a number baby, you the only brother
Tryin' to get up under my now

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

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

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

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Da, da, da, da, don't me

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

So you know my face now, got it
at me from the waste down, stop it
Said I'mma hard pill to swallow,
But I can make you feel

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

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, with my feelin's boy
Do you always speak before you
Lucky me, I know the game, I'mma flip my hair and walk
If you follow me on and poppin'
I think you're gettin outta pocket
Stop it you make me

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

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

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

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