Lyrics Resource: Love Lyrics

Uh, c’mon, uh, c’mon

[Fabolous]

Uh, William H. Bonnie, ma’ I make you Famous

[Fabolous]

Some little pretty mami’s is all I need (yeah)

Hennessy,Cristal, and sticky weed (uh huh)

A little drop sports cuope’s all I need (yeah)

And I brought the hammer if y’all front (woooh)

Yeah, the kid been makin these mami’s, yall “papacita”

Since Kangols and shell-top Adidas

Love when te-ta’s look like they pop through beaters

And the hips won’t fit in the L-drop two-seater

But ma’ I ain’t the type to love ya

I’m a triflin, good for nothin, type a brother

This cute face’ll make your wife smile

And I check in two bags and one’s just a suitcase full of Liftstyles

And we both rent out playa

Difference is you a sweet subsitute, I’m a Penthouse playa

Y’all seen my rings borders

It’s full of queen and king’s daughters, as clean as spring water

‘F’s for the freakin, ‘A’s alright (yeah)

‘B’s for bottles that pop all night(uh huh)

‘O’s for the ounces that I got (say what)

That we blow everyday, know why, why not?

[chorus]

Right now you probably like me, but

Later no you gonna love me and

Right now you probably want me, but

Later on you gonna need me and (yeah)

Right now you don’t like me, but

Later on you gonna hate me (what)

And just got to do it

F*** y’all, I’m a keep doin my thing

It’s the hoodrat Hugh Hefner, that bend dimes, too

The five plus one, sittin on ten times two

Shorty when I’m through…..

I’m a know if you nice on the mic and if your friend rhyme, too

It’s so funny how I suit the women

They know I’m still spendin show money from “Superwoman”

They like “where’d he get those twenties?”

And ” I didn’t know that’s a color that a coupe could come in, damnit man”

All I say to the heffers is “Jesus”

Keep swallowin my kids, might as well have no nephews and nieces

I know you wanna slip Proof

And try an make me crack a smile, just so you can see my chipped tooth

I’m tryna’ get you, in and out of my room

Just to get, in and out of my womb

And rocks in mine glare, somethin, like Times Square

Excuse me miss, you want me to sign where? (sign where?)

[Chorus]

Fab’s hard to be found

But most likely I’m with a foreign damn who name’s hard to pronouce

I started out, gettin hard by the ounce

No more cash in stashes, it’s cards in accounts

The way I make ‘em nod to the bounce

Somebody call Silvia and tell her ship larger amounts

This playa make ‘em scream a scheme

My closest look like I keep gettin traded from team to team

Looks sleezy, it’s difficult but me and Tim the only ones that make pimpin

look easy

Tell me how I’m gonna make my album cleaner

Even B****** suckin me like vacuum cleaners

Even chickens wanna cluck outside

(Timbaland: Yo’ Fab, it must be the truck outside)

And mami can’t stop eyein

And when I said my rims was only nineteens, she said “stop lyin!”

[Chorus]

[Timbaland talking]

Say what, say what, uh huh

You don’t need us, huh?

I see you comin back to her

Like that, with the two step

Fabolous, we out

Lyrics Resource: Songs Lyrics

Yeah, gangsta’s make the world go ’round

I heard that’s true

Make things go up and down

I heard that’s true

[Verse 1-Kurupt]

I been through the full-court pressure stage

The homies gave me a nine

The first time I saw a gauge

The first time I put my feet…

Down solid mashin on top of concrete

Before all the ways of war

House and car doors felt the rays of war

When life was simple as shit

And we didn’t give a fuck about a bitch, 1986

It’s all about lic’s, heat in the streets

Trucks with the beats

Bitches with biker shorts worn all tight

Tryin to get a pussy just worn all night

Plus you had to be a baller to get the baddest ho’s

Back in the days, 6-4 six trays

Back in the days, Elco’s, S-S’s

The best is where the west is niggaz don’t test us

[Chorus X4-DJ Lethal]

Just lay it on back (Hey)

Do you wanna ride?

[Verse 2-Fred Durst & Kurupt]

[Fred Durst]

Back in the days where them laces were thick

I was concerned with break dancin and layin some dick

For whatever it’s worth, I’m still doin the smurf

And I’m walkin on this Earth, like I don’t give a fuck

And now I’m rollin up in third gear

With 3 dollar bills, 3 more minutes to kill

3 more seconds to snap, 3 more bottles of beer

And corrupt’s my lifestyle, so shut the fuck up

And back the fuck up with that buck free style

[Kurupt]

Nigga what freestyle, nigga

[Fred Durst]

Walkin on a razor blade

[Kurupt]

Comin through I got it made, posted up in the shade

Comin through to get paid

Sunny California baby

[Fred Durst]

I got dubbs in my trunk and it’s bound to bump

Straight smashin, hollerin out what’s up Kurupt?

[Kurupt]

Wassup, I’m fillin in my right mind, one to the head

And I’m on the smash hollerin out ‘what’s up Fred?’

[Chorus X4-DJ Lethal]

Just lay it on back (Hey)

Do you wanna ride?

[Verse 3-Nate Dogg]

I don’t give a fuck so fuck what they say

Nigga won’t you pass, say pass the bombay

Niggaz they decide to ride and they ride

Niggaz they decide to lie and they die

I can bust a fleet of ho’s with my skills

I can make them ho’s bow down pay my bills

Can’t think I can make them ho’s convert to my will

Wanna bet I’ll turn them ho’s to my scrill’

If you love a bitch a bitch can drive you crazy

Anything a hooker do it won’t amaze me

You better be up on your game homie cuz they be

They may talk a lot of shit but they can’t fade me

If you hang around with suckaz then you may be…

Anotha type of brotha I don’t want with me

When you compensate with bustaz you confuse me

Cuz I’m tryin to stay out the penitentiary

[Chorus X4-DJ Lethal]

Just lay it on back (Hey)

Do you wanna ride

Lyrics Resource: Lyric

Lyrics Resource: Lyrics