R. Kelly
R. Kelly - Stop lyrics
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Yo, Duro, tell Rob to hurry up back in the booth, man We got the Track joint Yo, this Tone the referee, while I got your attention I gotta we set out to bring you the best possible heat For your two step, me, Jigga and Kells You know, so y'all just enjoy, aight Yo, Rob you there? (Yeah) Your mic sound nice (uh-huh uh-huh) You first to blow (yeah) Ight, you ready to blow (uh-huh) Aight, let's go Hold up, wait a minute, stop Jigga, I'm about to put the shit down Hold up, wait a minute, stop I'm about to, make these niggaz get down Hold up, wait a minute, stop Guaranteed, these niggaz gonna feel us Hold up, wait a minute, stop Tone and Poke, blow the motherfuckin' speakers Grab a bottle, get two models Thugs at Apollo's, niggaz wanna follow I'm about to show you, how wild it gets That nigga Hov', is the craziest Stop at the club, bout a quarter to six With a bottle in my hand, yellin' "Bitch, I'm rich" Hey, y'all niggaz see me, I can't believe it You startin' to sound like, you don't want it Tony's on the drop, blue and yellow rocks He keep yellin', stop, Sisqo's album flopped What you wanna do, if you drinkin', I'm hangin' out with you Five, four, three, two, one Hang on y'all, let's have some fun It's Young... uh, mack alone, I'm back in the zone I'm out they way, still these rappers won't leave me alone I can give a fuck what these rappers sayin' bout me That just let's me know, they can't go a day without me Scared of me succeading, that's the reason you doubt me Cuz if you ain't believe me, you wouldn't be thinkin' bout me Sorta how like you, never crossed my mind Until you crossed the line, stop... Then I gotta come accross a rhyme To let the world know you come across a mime I do so much sauce with lines, with someone who saws my climb From Marcy to party, where you soakin' up blue nine Prude, am I, got a du-lema, I'm a dude from the hood Who loves jewels, who am I? You where placed in the same shoes, size 10/5 With a sick view, of the place you grew, dude, can I Live, what I did, for this whole rap circus I open up more doors for y'all fuckers than car service Ya'll nervous, I ain't back yet I'm on extended vaca', I ain't unpack yet, stop worrying Five, four, three, two, one Hang on y'all, let's have some fun Shit, she back with the nigga inf dot Uh-oh, somebody better tell this broad I'm a nine year veteran, I'm back with my breathren I sware to god, it feel like '96 again Bitches snatchin' bags, see, they fuckin' with my shit again We bout to let them hammers pop In the 'Stuy, dudes, callin', you a problem, Fox' I got the automore pierre watch Butterscotch, GT, good toe on, three eight cock Ya'll ain't see this much love since they cried for 'Pac Since Big passed, or since Jay passed the Roc I'm in a clearport, full length mink in a G4 Fuck I'm lookin' like rhyming for a hundred g's, for? No, I don't talk to media guys I don't chatter with the best, ain't no question whose the best Shawn and Kelly, Fox, best of both worlds, I see y'all Aiyo, Kel, nigga, holler at your peoples Five, four, three, two, one Hang on y'all, let's have some fun