Obie Trice
Obie Trice - Petty lyrics
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Who do it hotter in Prada? I ain't from N.Y., do it +M-Y Way+, so Sinatra You know my {?} not proper for the Oscars But I opt out for the Oxfords in the Oxford ... Ha ha, that hurts Some'n by this oar got 'em tippin they fedoras Got the ladies bein whores cause we're ballin out stores I coordinate on e'rything I wore So ladies know him now say, "That was him before" Fresh as the core in my Christian Diors [Chorus] [Obie Trice] Got me smellin like Chanel Well, that's my female, shorty gets that mail In them transparent 90-millimeter heels In them Red Bottoms showin off them Christian Lou-B's Heels... that's real E-e-e'rything 'bout her scream Dolce & Gabanna with the bowlin ball bag showin out at Caribana Lil' mama, she a stunner Tweed dress on, no panties up under Catch her on Queens Street ballin at the boutiques, holla [Chorus] [Obie Trice] BME, Black Market Entertainment Obie Trice (Obie Trice, Obie Trice) New shit... so bent Guess the man lucky, she ain't glam luxury We as a couple get +Fresher+ than Douglas E. Double up on my duds where the logos be So Polo duplicate on me, guess that's why they hate Obie They can see [Chorus] [Outro] I'm petty {*4X*}