[Instrumental]
think about it You'd best to let me rap Ice back on the streets? You don't want that, 'cause I break ill And you really after body count the caps I peel
to Fuckwit on the Chicks bathroom wall I'm slightly easy and a trife bit sleazy With the wit of a red brick and chiselled body of Kim Beazley My theory
, or in the winter I make your ass hot like a light Bub-rub-a-dub, three bodies in a tub Okay, go get the men with the white gloves You can call it business
less Seasons change and people stay the same Each year the whore's hike their skirts up a bit more We're all just numbers on a cartoon calendar page We listen to the music
, just blame it on the green Girl cut up, got lean on lean That shoebox shit, over with She put it on the rack, won't notice it My bank 'count, commas
around me endangering never knew it too busy sharp shooting little fishes don't get caught by this harpoon bitch iti??s just music meet my instruments
can't get it wrong You just move around like you really don't care Hands in the air and keep 'em there Side to side you just let 'em sway Through the day, let the music
Her body was ransom Her kisses were dancin' On my lips and in my mind The money has run out The music is played out And now it seems were running out
, or in the winter I make your ass hot like a light Bub-rub-a-dub, three bodies in a tub OK, go get the men, with the white gloves You can call it business
environments around me endangering never knew it too busy sharp shooting little fishes don't get caught by this harpoon bitch it's just music meet my
[Verse 1:] Making moves, yup they call them the makers Flying in an aircraft, I'm so aviator Meteor flow hit ya body with them craters Step up on stage
