Kool Keith

Kool Keith - Maxin In The Shade lyrics

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Hey girl, you frontin on that phone

That cellular phone ain't workin

What's that?  Pre-paid, from J&J

And your voice mail is off, cause I called you



So you're extravagant, think you all that

There's some corn flakes in the kitchen

and turkey sandwich on top of the 'fridgerator

That's right girl, don't roll your eyes at me like a alligator

Put your Chanel shades on, walk with your thong in your butt

Runnin your fingers through your cheap raise(?)

Look at your girlfriend with her hair weave fallin out

On my phone, runnin up my bill

Talkin to broke-ass drug dealer friends

to Western Union you three dollars from Cancun

You're now in the red with your real hair stickin from under your wig

showin behind your head, with real, pimples on your face

You can't disrespect me in my place; them cigarettes smell

Lookin for NBA players to take you to eat and you don't even have gas

Actin pretty you need to pull over in Taco Bell

I seen your kind before with mice spittin

pumpkin seeds in your living room floor

I know your type.. I know your type



Maxin in the shade - I know your type

Maxin in the shade - I know your type

Maxin in the shade - I know your type



You can't even cook a hot dog or pour a glass of milk

You'd rather walk around with plastic coats over your head

in the rain lookin for a coach bag and Moschino belt

You need to see how McDonald's feel

Stop lookin around like you "Superfly" and Ron O'Neal

I'ma let you know how beef and a quarter pound is real

Now go get your autograph and take a picture with the Cheeseburglar

Let him know how you got your hair done

And you're movin like you're pregnant this month

with your +Belly+ stickin out like movie and soundtrack

You dress up with diamonds just to eat

Don't even finish your plate complete

When the bill come, you try to act like you can't see the receipt

Walkin up the block with Vivica Fox type girlfriends

Jockin a seventy-year-old man, in a mansion

with a seventy-five Rolls Royce, that look like Alfred Hitchcock

Maybe he can afford your liposuction stretch marks and tax deduction

The second verse is still introduction

So you actin like a sad puppy

lookin at me through the fish tanks like a guppy

(Why you have to look at me so stupid like that?)



Maxin in the shade - I know your type

Maxin in the shade - I know your type

Maxin in the shade - I know your type



First of all I bought the food you didn't even say thank you

Now put on your bibs and chew your ribs

You got grease on your hand and your favorite skirt

I'ma call your mom after you get off work so your head hurt

You wasn't invited to the concert that's V.I.P. backstage

Who's this? What you doin here?

I'm ashamed of you, I'm bein straight

I hate you, I'm not gonna face you

I'ma take you to White Castle asshole

I don't wear platinum, I wear gold

My maturity ability is laughin at you like comedy

You need to sit down, pull out a Swanson TV dinner

Peanut butter and jelly'll fill up your belly

Bread in the cabinet start grabbin it

Kool-Aid and lemonade get comfortable under the shade

and let the barbershop, give your bob wig a tight fade



Maxin in the shade - I know your type

Maxin in the shade - I know your type

Maxin in the shade - I know your type

Maxin in the shade



You slept with the wrong man

All seven of your big-head kids are ugly [laughing]
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Language: English

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