Uh.. uh uh uh uh
|
Uh.. wait a minute now
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
|
Uh, uh..
|
Can you hear me out there?
|
Lunatics.. is y'all ready?
|
Let me hear ya
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
|
|
[Nelly]
|
I'ma sucka for corn rows and manicured toes (hey)
|
Fendi capri pants and Parasuco's (alright)
|
High saddity and city, with one or two clothes
|
I'm draftin 'em outta high school straight into the pros
|
Who knows? I know!
|
And I love it when you make your knees touch your elbows
|
And break it down low to the flo', and there you go
|
Now throw it on me slow
|
And everytime I +Busta Rhyme+, baby "Gimme Some Mo'"
|
You say you like that, when I hit it from behind
|
And I'll be right back; yeah that's my very next line
|
I use it - time after time, when I'm speakin my mind
|
It's no matter if I'm shootin game to a pigeon or dime
|
I ask her, "Who dat is, talkin that shit about the 'tics?"
|
Somebody probably jealous cause they bitch got hit
|
But ain't nobody else droppin shit like this
|
Should we apologize? Nah fuck 'em, just leave 'em pissed, HEY!
|
|
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
|
|
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I.
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What's poppin tonight?
|
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I.
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery'night
|
|
[Nelly]
|
We can gamble to the break of dawn, nigga
|
Money long, nigga
|
Pass up the skirt to talk to the thong, nigga
|
Some say I'm wrong, but fuck it I'm grown, nigga
|
If you ain't bout money then best be gone, nigga
|
I'm flashy (uh) double takes when you walk past me
|
Nasty, don't be scared boo, go 'head and ask me
|
I drive fastly, call me Jeff Gord-on
|
In the black SS with the naviga-tion
|
See the joint blaz-on, somethin smells amaz-on
|
I got a chick rollin up, half black and asi-an
|
Another one pag-in, tellin me to come home
|
Her husband on vacation and left her home alone
|
I used the V-12, powers; weight loss, powers
|
From +Phat Farm+ to +Iceberg Slim+ in one shower
|
Get a room in Trump Towers just to hit the P hours
|
Kicked the bitch up out the room cause she used the word ours, HEY!
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Nelly]
|
Aiyyo I smash-mouth a whole ounce, of that sticky
|
Wash my hands under a gold spout, when feelin icky
|
Let go off in a ho's mouth, I ain't picky
|
Start frontin when the shows out - whatchu mean?!
|
Twenty inches when they roll ouuuuuuut - come and get me
|
Big faces when they fold ouuuuuuut - is you wit me?
|
Don't make me pull that fo'-fo' ouuuuuuut
|
I keep it closer when the dough ouuuuuuut
|
Then I slide up in the Escalade
|
Me and E gettin solid like the Ice Capades
|
And me and Heezy - frosty, Roger the Rabbit and Bugsy
|
You understand me, wrapped wrists like mummies
|
If you compare me to your local grocery
|
Then you'll see I got more carrots/karats than "Aisle D"
|
More bread than "Aisle G", then bag and scan me
|
+Sure+ like +Al B.+, meet the 'tics in Maui, HEY!
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Nelly]
|
St. Louis y'all, uh, uh
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
|
Uh, can you feel that?
|
Lunatics y'all, uh, uh
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
|
Uh, uh, Uncle Phil up above y'all, uh, uh
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
|
Yell it universal y'all, uh, uh
|
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
|
Uh, uh, chillin chillin chillin with the crew y'all
|
|
[Chorus (to fade + ad libs)]
|
|
-----------------
|
E.I.
|
| Nelly |
