Оригинален текст
Boobonic
You could turn the mic down a lil' bit
C'mon
Mr. Man
M-R Dot M-A-N B Double O B-O-N-I-C (*4X*)
Boobonic
Excuse me b*tch what's your name
Couple dollars ain't it so what's your game
Known fact cause I'm gettin' the cash
Don't dance face to face, b*tch gimme the ass
I'll help you out if you had a long day
d*ck like, good advice, it could go a long way
Front, cause I knocked cha'll down
I could remodel homes, I knock walls down
I'm wit all, that s**t y'all
Talk about, oh what I don't hit raw
Naw, hit the floor like a bank hold up
Have I ever loved a chick lemme think, hold up
No, I'm all about the dough
He shouldn't give a fk if it's not your hoe
Oh, that hatin' s**t you did, ain't done us
Playas and we get more head then new hundreds
Chorus: Pharell Williams
Please don't mind, how I pursue
Don't take it personal girl that's how thugs do
Let's get high, sit for a few
And after that let's go I'm fkin you
Mr.
Yo, let me tell you how I pursue
Spit game in they ear, and it's proper too
Say we stayin' at the Fount with Blue
I'ma ball every day, spend a grand or two (psyche)
Hit the beach, forget the sheets
Get it down right there, chick touch your feet
Loc roll, that's so much game
Y'all think y'all know my aim
That's a joke like Marlon Wayans, lame
And it ain't got no change
Chick listen up, want d*ck or what?
Take that, that's the only thing I'm givin' up
Only sent, it's the dream that your 'gone get
Hit for free, then Boo 'gone hit
No they not like M-O dot
I hit, touch base, and ball like White Sox
Chorus - 2x
Boobonic
Look around dawg, what you see nigg*
Whole lotta model girls then me nigg*
Me and Don in a drop and this pearl
With jewels so sick make wanna hurl
Do it look like I care that's your girl?
She diggin' me, and love that I'm all the way ferl
You talkin' s**t, don't concern her
If I fkin' go, hit more girls than Ike Turner
Mr.
I send 'em home in the cab to tell
I play 'em more high notes than Patti LaBelle (plus)
You gel, heavywear at (and)
Got ice and your bezie wear that
Y'all doozers are strictly losers
We 'gone blow bright like bulbs and fuses
Tell your man he better slow his role
Our guns'll make James Brown lose his soul
Chorus - 4x