- Votes:
- Composers:
- Sean Combs
- Christopher Wallace
- Ralph Leverston
- Trevor Smith
- Steven A Jordan
 
- Genres:
- Hip-Hop
 
- See also:
Busta Rhymes - Hey Ladies lyrics
C'mon, yea
 Snap your fingers, c'mon, yea
 Here we go now, yea
 C'mon, yea, check it
I said, "My solo jump off, been boomin' since nine-six"
 My solo jump off, been boomin' since nine-six
 Hittin' trippin' the circuit breaker, flickin' the light switch
 The kid like is he known for givin' you wild hits
 I keep my name on the way on top of the now list
 Bangin' on every level, droppin' the now shit
 It's like the feelin' after watchin' a couple of old flick
 And once you hear the kid, you'll be knowin' the sound sick
Spaz in the club, watchin' the crowd flip
 That's when I knew the crown was up for whoever the crown fit
 Nowadays while I go bag me a fine bitch
 Bitch watchin' my pocket, seein' we wild rich
 Shorty hopin' we smellin' nothin' like foul fish
 While you swingin' ass at the Devil, claimin' you righteous
 A lot of haters I'm knowin' you like this
 While you floss unnecessarily, sippin' on wild Crist'
I say "Ladies, my Mercedes"
 Hold fo' in the back, two if you fat
 Feel it all in your gut, your neck and your back
 When you step up in the club I know you know how to act
 Hey soldiers, get your floss on
 Va-let in the lot, park the Yukon
 Shorty shakin' her waist, and rippin' her thong
 Now all my people are muggin' and singin' the song, I'm sayin'
Shit still boomin' in two-thousand and three
 My shit still boomin' in two-thousand and three
 And we don't give a fuck about who you claimin' to be
 My jewels blind bitches where they ain't able to seeBusta Rhymes - Hey Ladies - http://motolyrics.com/busta-rhymes/hey-ladies-lyrics.html
 These fools try to talk just a little much to a G
 They say the wrong shit, they head just might end upside of a tree
 Clear my thoughts just a little, pass me a cup of tea
 Takin' different constant boats, from the land to the sea
I got my paper see, I ain't doin' nuttin' for free
 Unless it's for the hood, it might cost you a small fee
 Niggaz all in the street, whylin' whippin' the V
 Clever from New York to Chicago back to the D
 Check it, take it back like when I was flippin' a key
 Bonin' chicks, holdin' titties like they was Pamela Lee
 You know I mastered the art and got it down to a tee
 And keep it goin' add enough spice, we holdin' the recipe
Big paper we makin', all of my crew agree
 Stack more and bust up a bottle of Hennessey
 In case you niggaz ain't even knowin' my pedigree
 Invested in resorts for the niggaz who go and ski
 If you ain't know the streets is belongin' to me
 I get my people from the hood and then take 'em all on a spree shoppin'
 While you niggaz is busy coppin' the pleas
 We busy blowin' frontin' like you ain't knowin' my stee'
I say "Ladies, my Mercedes"
 Hold fo' in the back, two if you fat
 Feel it all in your gut, your neck and your back
 When you step up in the club I know you know how to act
 Hey soldiers, get your floss on
 Va-let in the lot, park the Yukon
 Shorty shakin' her waist, and rippin' her thong
 Now all my people are muggin' and singin' the song, I'm sayin'
Yea, snap yo' fingers, c'mon, yea
 Here we go now, yea
 C'mon
















