Cam'ron

Cam'ron - Boy Boy songtekst

Je score:

                     

 [Cam:] What up boy, boy?

[Guy:] Ain't nothin' boy, boy, it's good in the hood

[Cam:] What's poppin' boy, boy?

[Guy:] A lot of these cats fakin' jacks boy, boy

My man Smit' over hear, he's got somethin' on his mind

[Cam:] 'Sup Smitty?

[Guy:] This kid Smitty is acting a little silly right

now, boy, boy

He don't understand this is real in the hood boy, boy

[Cam:] Why you ain't smack boy, boy?

[Guy:] Well he got somethin' on his mind, you know what I'm sayin'?

I'm tryin' show a little love to him boy, boy, he need to understand

I'm tryin' let 'em live boy, boy, this is real ya' understand?

You need to stop playin' with me like that boy, boy

[Cam:] Yeah, I'm a holla at nigga, boy, boy



[Verse 1]

Cops bagged me one night, looking for the blow

Wen't from Bronxhouse to bookings, bookings to the show

From the show to the crib, to the kitchen cookin' Os

Kitchen to the car, to the street lookin' for Hos

Lookin' for hos, to straight up baggin' one

From my game in her brain, ain't no wagon, hun (Ain't no wagon bitch)

From the wagon, garage to the house

Dinnin' room, kitchen, kitchen to the couch

Couch to the bedroom, my dick's in her mouth

Bedroom to front door, this bitch getting out (See ya')

Front door, to "You know where the Jacuzzi is?"

Dress cooley, but usually the Coogi kid, bouchie kid

Tell ya boo-bee, a doo-bee did

She a houchie groupie Cooley is

Who am I? Come on, can't be for-reala

Went from Cam to Killa, killa to scrilla, Gorilla

From killa to Sky-Scrappers, from sky-scrappers 

High papers, that's my nature

Do five you now, y'all die later

Come to your wake, look at you; "Hi hater"

From the wake to lot, another boogie

From the lot to the hill, to cop somethin' ugly (Ugly)

From the hill to that state Dakota

From Dakota to the corna, get that bakin' soda, KILLA



[Chorus:]

Yo, where you from dog? Harlem boy, boy

Oh this nigga getting' money? Holla boy, boy

Oh this cat over front? Fuck boy, boy

He keep that shit up..fucking drop boy, boy

Oh you got that hydro? You lyin' boy, boy

If you need that dope, though? We got boy, boy

But watch your back: from the cops' boy, boy

Cause they paper? They wanna stop boy, boy



[Verse 2]

Aiyoo, I heard you out there shorty..slingin' boy, boy

Oh MY god, oh boy, boy 

Be careful of the motherfuckin' boys, boy

Me though? I run THEM boys, boy

Lloyd, Floyd, Roy, Soy, Black Bridicks

Bitches too, joy toy, what

Cat like you? Call you a Gladiator

Give her oral, and you happy, Glad-he-ate-her (Stupid)

Put ? on the pussy, she a masturbator

Put my dick in her mouth, that's what fascinate her  

I'm a legendary now, past the player, past the player

Got the rock? Pass that player

I'm like Betty Crocker with cake, that's in layers

I had city issues before, ask the mayor (Ask him)

He said "Cam'ron, please stop this crack behavior"

(Shut the fuck up, man)

He ain't know '96, I had a knack for Gators

I come through, laugh at haters, bitches too

Wanna act, setback, relax a player

Cause all these hos jelly you hard

When your purlieus are hard

And the Chanel, Sklies to Scarfs

I stick to their stomachs, their belly's will barf

And I take them to the telly where their belly will force

"Why fucking me like that? Calm down that's my uterus

my serfix, my ovaries" Relax, I'm doin' this

Welcome to exclusiveness

You about to take a week off, the ultimate freak off

Hit Jimmy, Jeulz, Sean, and Zek off

Wait a minute ma', wipe that cum on your cheek OFF 

I hate me a filthy ho, but I like me a silly ho

That way you really blow

Havin' to fuck cats, she don't really know

Then take all her money; you don't feel me, though

You don't understand my pimp-ery

You love them you got sympathy, fuck that, I'm into me



[Chorus]

Yo, where you from dog? Harlem boy, boy

Oh this nigga getting' money? Holla boy, boy

Oh this cat over front? Fuck boy, boy

He keep that shit up..fucking drop boy, boy

Oh you got that hydro? You lyin' boy, boy

If you need that dope, though? We got boy, boy

But watch your back: from the cops boy, boy

Cause they paper? They wanna stop boy, boy

                      
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Taal: Engels

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