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Текст песни Heather B. - Do You

Heather B. - Do You слова песни




What, what?Bitches backstab with no remorse, fuck bitchesthey get blasted when I`m lickin off, Heather BHard hitter, when I`m gettin off, these bitcheswith no father figures they be trickin off, feel meThey beez off the heez knees and naps to showIf they try to run between these I blow they doorsPut the jinx on em all like they sophomoresCause these bitches got the gall to holla hardcoreI`m crackin jaws, Heather B the southpaw, with no lookGive a fuck about these bitches, uhh, and that`s the hookYou know how I`m gon` get it, split it, off the booksAnd you ain`t got to love me, trust me, simply hookChorus:When you countin on your peoples and they don`t pull throughI`ma do me (you gots to do you)Niggaz game so weak I can see right throughI`ma do me (you gots to do you)Everybody got a time and I know mine`s dueI`ma do me (you gots to do you)See you out there gettin yours, gots ta gets mine tooI`ma do me (you gots to do you)Heather B, Grand like a CherokeeLoredo, I need my hands on some alfredoStreets condonin it, Back on the Block, Quincy Jonesin itPrada, get publishing, what? I`m owning it huhYou feel me now? You get the point?Heather B B B B drops oowops on your jointsYou really, can`t rate me or mistake me for anotherI Brings In Da Noize And Funk like Savion GloverWicked, like those sisters and that stepmotherGot your clocks strikin twelve I`m bringin hell to CinderellaFuck how much you sell cause, I read your album coverYou couldn`t write a jam if your last name was SmuckerGot all my motherfuckers yellin Jersey up in hereNo Limit like Master P I like how he Do Dat ThereListen here I`m livin sort of dan-gerous-lyPlus I`m bulletproof no use in aimin at meChorusI spits pure fire, I burn the finest of designsHeather B that MC that runs up on em from behindWho got your back now, where you ill crew at?The sons you talked about with guns, the ones with gats and all that?I figured that some rap for plaques over, R&B tracksYou got to watch, what you say if you ain`t really, livin thatAnother rapper lost, lookin all stank up in The SourceWhat`s all that shit fo`? Did your momma, raise a hoe?Fight it, and I win, I`m that rhyme, veteranwith that Nighttime Sniffly Sneezin Rest Your Head, MedicineSee me live rock on Keenan, and even, LettermanRock Chris Rock, blow his spot, like nitro-glycerinHold that like they don`t know, but I`m like years ahead of themPlus I shed, more light right, than Thomas, EdisonAnd I`ll take it there end your career with one stroke of my penAnd I got enough love, I don`t need no mo` friendsChorusWhen they poppin champagne and you only drinkin brewI`ma do me (you gots to do you)When you know you broke as hell and your rent is dueI`ma do me (you gots to do you)And you ain`t got no love, you know you ain`t trueI`ma do me (you gots to do you)Frontin with them niggaz from that weak ass crewI`ma do me (you gots to do you)and I`m out

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