| O in the hood, it’s Florida Evans
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| I’m a terrorist, but not bein' in 9/11
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| It be so sweet to me, uh huh, uh huh
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| It goes real deep in me, uh huh, uh huh
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| Sugar walls, filled with your cream
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| Make me wanna sing bout the dick-a-ling
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| Ride with me boo, put the car on cruise
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| I got you, cause thugs need love too
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| Jacki-O in the hood, Ms. Florida Evans
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| Ms. Carrera causin' terror in my 9/11
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| I’m just a black quarter
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| Got 'em nauseous, with the Porsches
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| The two exhausts, with the 400 horses
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| Gust like mustard, trust it, salt shaker
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| Won’t ever make another color like me cause it’s order
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| The hoochies, the haters, the hoes say it won’t last
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| I be makin' everybody think the hood roll back
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| Money on top of money, I got it, honey
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| I’m buyin' shit like I got Monopoly money
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| Switch things, nigga through the beams do in my suite
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| Lookin', bustin' thug love, damn, guess what I see
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| Young thug lookin' like a slave, nigga was a Kunta Kinte with braids
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| Hood nigga, feel-good nigga, ol' sticky
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| Skin like mocha, his lips so pretty
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| I’m Jacki-O, you ain’t gotta use the door
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| Don’t you see I got a drop?
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| Jump in from the top
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| It be so sweet to me, uh huh, uh huh
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| It goes real deep in me, uh huh, uh huh
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| Sugar walls, filled with your cream
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| Make me wanna sing bout the dick-a-ling
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| Ride with me boo, put the car on cruise
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| I got you, cause thugs need love too
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| I kidnap the kind of thug that you curse 'round
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| Girl, you know the kind you gotta hide your purse 'round
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| I stuck the clutch, he bust the dutch
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| I jumped out and he scotched the cops somethin'
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| We blowin' 'dro, from the city to the Grove
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| Man, I think he ready, his pants lookin' heavy
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| I think he ready to roar, he ready to score
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| I switched gears, hit the brakes, and slowed his horses
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| Whoa, pony, slow down, homie
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| You got me, nigga, nobody rides free
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| He put it on me, the sex unreal like a pill
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| The young nigga was the deal
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| I refund that nigga, gave him back his dough
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| The way he ate the snapper, call him Jacques Cousteau
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| He feel so real, can’t believe he had skills
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| He could’ve got the Heisman, the way he played the field
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| That’s real!
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| It be so sweet to me, uh huh, uh huh
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| It goes real deep in me, uh huh, uh huh
|
| Sugar walls, filled with your cream
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| Make me wanna sing bout the dick-a-ling
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| Ride wit me boo, put the car on cruise
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| I got you, cause thugs need love too
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| It’s over, I done put him in the Rover
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| Moved him out his aunt’s house, put him in a condo
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| This young nigga got me goin', I think I’m whooped
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| I’m in the school zone with the cruise on
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| I’m lookin' for you, where you at?
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| I got a fresh pair of Jordans for you
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| Damn, hit a bitch back!
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| Lunch money and he cruise in my ride
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| And when I’m boostin', I be stealin' his size
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| I can’t tell these hoes, nah
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| The first thang they gon' say is, «Shake it off, O!»
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| Fuck that! |
| This nigga go deep
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| I put him up on the lick, this nigga gon' cream
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| But I ain’t gon' sweat him, and I ain’t gon' chase him
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| But Imma breast feed him, and I’m gon' raise him
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| It be so sweet to me, uh huh, uh huh
|
| It goes real deep in me, uh huh, uh huh
|
| Sugar walls, filled with your cream
|
| Make me wanna sing bout the dick-a-ling
|
| Ride wit me boo, put the car on cruise
|
| I got you, cause thugs need love too
|
| It be so sweet to me, uh huh, uh huh
|
| It goes real deep in me, uh huh, uh huh
|
| Sugar walls, filled with your cream
|
| Make me wanna sing bout the dick-a-ling
|
| Ride wit me boo, put the car on cruise
|
| I got you, cause thugs need love too
|
| It be so sweet to me, uh huh, uh huh
|
| It goes real deep in me, uh huh, uh huh
|
| Sugar walls, filled with your cream
|
| Make me wanna sing bout the dick-a-ling
|
| Ride wit me boo, put the car on cruise
|
| I got you, cause thugs need love too |