[Tone aka Trackmaster]
|
So I told shorty I be producing, I be making those beats
|
Be making those hits, ya know
|
So I told her my name, My name is Tone
|
She said "Town!!"
|
You know like she never heard of me, ya know
|
So I said okay you may know me by my other name
|
Sometimes they call me
|
|
[R. Kelly]
|
TRACK-MAS-STER
|
|
[Jay-Z]
|
We see you Tone
|
Tone the referee
|
We see you, baby
|
|
[R. Kelly]
|
C'mon Shorty
|
That nigga Hov
|
|
[Jay-Z]
|
Holla
|
|
[R. Kelly]
|
Yall niggas don't understand
|
|
[Jay-Z]
|
Uh-uh, they dont understand
|
Flow for'em
|
No lemme sing for em
|
Just sing for'em
|
|
[R. Kelly]
|
Check It
|
Mr. Kell
|
Its like this, some of yall niggas got, legs for lips
|
Running ya mouth mad cuz I, pop that Cris
|
Go up in 3-10, and cop that six
|
Then roll around with yo chick
|
Some of yall niggas mad cuz I drop these hits
|
Thug ass nigga, on some, R&B Shit
|
Now that shit done fucked around and, made me rich
|
And, For those of you who don't like it, yall can suck my "Uhhhh!!"
|
These honies to my suite like I'm, the Pidi piper
|
Body ass, hitin high notes, like they Mariah
|
Get that pussy wet enough to put out a bonfire
|
She be like "Wooooooo", and I be like "Wooooooo"
|
When her tides got high, fuck it Ima Don
|
Runnin late for the studio, fuck it I'm bout to come
|
Dress cold at club fuck it Air Force I's
|
Said I wouldn't mention Sisqo, fuck he's a bum
|
Ally boom, buaya, Hit you with the right hook
|
You be like, what the fuck was that
|
Me and Jigga, we are like the industries popo
|
Nigga yall best shit can't even fuck with our demo's
|
Shorty
|
|
[Chorus 2X: R. Kelly]
|
From New York on to L.A. (Shorty)
|
Chi-Town we freak the night away (Shorty)
|
Miami all the pretty girls (Shorty)
|
We know chicks all around the world (Shorty)
|
|
[Jay-Z]
|
Shorty, what yo name is?
|
Shorty, who yo man is?
|
C'mon and make moves with a dude who move cane
|
Like a old man, you know who game this is, Young Hov
|
Name is respected in fifty different languages, mommy come roll
|
I keep a jet on the runway, Sunday in Paris, London on Monday
|
Back to L.A.
|
This aint rap, this is real, I could trip and have a meal
|
In three hours ma the streets will be ours (Wooooooo)
|
Shorty, I got something for you, Wouldn't give a chick a dime before
|
but now I wanna spoil you
|
Shorty, The trips to the gucc shop, getcha cooch hot
|
How bout I do a helipads on the roof top
|
Shorty, Ya hella rag, your my rock star Shorty
|
Heres my number shit, you don't gotta to call me
|
Shorty
|
|
[Chorus 2x]
|
|
[R. Kelly]
|
I'm chillin in my 4.6, at the light
|
5 o'clock in the morning, been drinking all night
|
And, Plus I'm high, but it aint over
|
4 slim bodies scooped me in a wide body rover
|
Panties and bras all the way from the bed to the sofa
|
For all you R&B so called playas, I'm bout to coach ya
|
Sit right there, and watch me freak yo girl chocha
|
Tounge all down her throat as if a nigga was trying to choke her
|
Its The Best Of Both Worlds, stickin ya in the "uhhhhhh!!"
|
Put ya hands up like it's money in the air
|
We bout to rip these charts like Zorro Blade
|
So hot your gonna need a cold glass of lemonade
|
To all my real live niggas, that shoot dice and play spades
|
In a nice crib, word up, drinking the Maid
|
On the rizel my nizel, that nigga Jigga is the dizel
|
R. Kizel in the hotel swizel's chicks on the mizel's
|
|
[Chorus 2x]
|
|
Shorty
|
|
Shorty
|
|
-----------------
|
Shorty
|
R Kelly |