I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head
's up my nigga Huh, inside out, that boy Harlem done touch ground Hold up man, know what I'm saying redmofo for life Redmond ridas nigga redmond hard heads
, make my money Make it fast, get yo head swoll bringin me checks bitch bring me cash Drop yo panties, to let you start To open your mouth, slurp and
street Nevertheless we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat Yo, we got the obscure shit for the street Nevertheless we split your head and your
ain't got nothing left but ur word and ur balls And you're stressed from the calls of your new friends Beggin' with they hands out Checking for ur record
break your fucking arm Unless you apologize and pick on someone your size Not too cookoo-hit you-but the 4 to the 5 Point it to your nose Now your blood
own the own the game yall is leasing with the option to buy your flight been delayed kid you not gonna fly we got the army throw your hands to the sky
skunk? or could it be that body in tha trunk? of my lincoln , continental style, pop tha pussy like a pimple, im fed up I put it in your ear and fuck ya head
Puffin' like Ditty Riding cross the hatas face mad, team gritty Honk your horn twice if your misses lookin' pretty Repeat chorus (Nelly:) Well if you run wit' your
I gets down (HOO) Twist your body {*singing*} round and round, upside down Chorus: Busta Rhymes C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon Bitch grab your tits
' pick you up, when ya flight land We in a tight jam Me and Diddy fam sorta like his right hand I touch down like two-thirty If i was on you, your hoe
The mic, this mic in my hand, I'm rulin So prepare your mind for my lifeline And meet the new Queen of Royal Badness Latifah has the spirit so head for
The mic, this mic in my hand, I'm ruling So prepare your mind for my lifeline And meet the new Queen of Royal Badness Latifah has the spirit so head
on your hood kid I shitted on your hood, got to your burner too late I'm lookin real good, draped out Shinin like a fresh fifty cent piece, your girlfriend
'm droppin Kangol slanted, Ghost'll ran with it, hippie hung-out Club bandit never empty-handed when I brand it Mark callin Austin, Mark callin Austin
street Nevertheless, we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat Yo, we got the obscure shit for the street Nevertheless, we split your head and your
, I flex my Bentley wings Damn, over your head, got a problem Keepin' lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve 'em But the game's extreme so quit your
