*featuring St. Lunatics
|
|
[Hook]
|
Like ohh better get em back push dem niggas back
|
I hear dem boyz come'n dirty
|
Like ohh better get em back push dem bitches back
|
I hear dem boyz come'n(repeat 4x's)
|
|
[Verse 1: Nelly]
|
Who am I you ask me you know it's bout that grammar
|
From any state it don't matter, from here to Montana
|
From whit girls name Anna, to old ladies name Nanna
|
They hold'n up they banners, and run'n wit they cameras
|
Can I get a flick you damn right miss
|
(Can I take a hit) here boo like this
|
Chronic sticky like gum, I guess that's how it comes
|
Don't worry bout my funds, I play around it in one (Like ohh)
|
When you seen that hummer, but that was last summer
|
this year I'm more blunter
|
More up close and personal, it's just gon get worser now
|
From Prada to Vokal, the Tics are too versatile
|
Can't worry bout certain sounds, that come out these haters mouths
|
I realize they can't help it, just stay where you bow'n down
|
Some more you can't get these pounds, unless you gon smoke it now
|
If not I suggest you pack yo shit up and head out of town
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
[Verse 2: Murphy Lee]
|
They be like hold up, hold up, hold up I know that aint them man
|
Murp jersey on backwards wit ol' school Tim's and
|
Kyjuan got on so many colors just like a pimp
|
Nelly chain so long got him walk'n wit a limp
|
Ali is throw'n money in the front row
|
And er' body scream'n Slo Down but where the hell is slo of course
|
We be them up, close, live, and in person
|
Might look like the type that be rob'n them purses
|
But I aint I'm the yung dude I be rhyme'n them verses
|
Worked hard since '93 that's how I got signed to Universal
|
Now the girlies take they thongs off
|
And it be crazy in the club when that Lunatic song go off
|
I be that pull up right beside you beat'n bad type of Tic
|
I'm a hold up traffic to touch her ass type of Tic
|
Lunatic, that's what I am that's what I said I am
|
I'm try'n to be a millionaire I bet I am, I bet I am
|
|
[Verse 3: Kyjuan]
|
It's dem boyz on dem porches in Air Forces read'n Sources
|
My choice is ol' school's over dem Rolls Royce's
|
Of course this Tic shit live like EA Sports is
|
Dribble in the club I lay up wit two draft choices
|
Hit the center touch the point guard, she hit the joint hard
|
Ohh wee oh Lord, she don't want no more
|
Cutlass is four door, stash for the 4.4
|
Smokes 1 44, what dem o's go for (Like oh)
|
350 1 more, 350 stick'n the floor brand new bizare
|
smashes, g 's and c's all in my glasses
|
Tics fantastic we get booked more than matches
|
Imagine, me without those two headbands
|
Them Vokal t-shirts with some 8 class pants
|
Feel'n dapper like Dan yes fresh like Mannie
|
Cutlass candies sit down you know you can't stand me
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
[Verse 4: Ali]
|
Band-aids, braids, bald head, fades, locks, stripy stocks, rocks in the watch
|
Big shorts, headband to a cross-jersey back Ross
|
That's that Mid-West talk, I think yo future boss Batter Up
|
Naw cough, and let you know Caprice Classic on these hoes
|
Ver big shows tell her best be on they toes
|
5 country grammar boys in bandana platinum no gold like (Oh)
|
That's what they say when I pull up on d's in that old Dr.J
|
Hold a v a, fat laces this world is rat races
|
Head'n back places but it still seem racist
|
Got locations so I haul off the wall off if you could fall off
|
Got a room at the Wada wit a saw that 'll take the wall off
|
Hit the mall off wit a sag hockey jersey du-rag
|
Fitted still switch'n two different shoes starchy wit tags
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
-----------------
|
Dem Boyz
|
| Nelly |
