lyrics
[Verse 1: JoSexy]
Met a bitch on High Street, she was mad cute
Said she like my gauges and my Yoshi tattoo
A shallow hoe, I asked her name and she said Desireé
I'm like "Desire, bitch? We need to find a place to lay!"
We headed to my place, by then it's gettin' kinda late
She still don't get it so I had to give it to her straight
Well Desireé I've got a Desireé to check your résumé
A sorta confirmation you can make me levitate
Told her I'm a mack, I be pimpin' hoes
So she went down South like Tippin' 4's
Got my jollies and the bitch just froze
'Cause I got it in her ears, eyes, mouth and nose
I'll call her back if she go ham enough
She bend it over, buss it wide, but for that she'll need some stamina
She questioned if a nigga man enough
I put it in, pumped twice, and by then that bitch was standin' up
(Standin' up)
[Chorus: T Mattox]
I tell these East Coast freaks (freaks, freaks)
Same thing I tell these West Coast pros (pros, pros, pros)
I like what's in your Dirty South blouse (blouse, blouse, blouse)
I know you want it
Girl, you know you wanna top me off
(Me off, me off, me off, me off)
You love to top me off
(Me off, me off, me off, me off)
You wanna to top me off
(Off, off, off, off!)
You Love to top me
I know you want it
Girl you know you wanna top me...
[Verse 2: Effswell]
Mmm-hmmmm!
Ready or not, I'm back up like reversal
Fast life, last ride, no hearse so
I'ma put this beat in the dirt, yo
And I never gave a fuuuu--- Just broke a curse, Bro!
I'm prophetic
You are pathetic
Cannot blame you 'cause its in your genetics
My life's a gamble, so glad Mommy betted
Spelling bee champ too, King of Phonetics
A boy, I dance like a B-Boy
C boy, if I ever was a D-boy
I'd serve ladies with that E, boy
'Til they wanna F with a G on freak roids
Before you're hopped up on shots and pills
My brain's got a lot to spill
Plus a cop to kill, a hot spot to fill
Like The Devil's new crib in Pradaville
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Effswell]
I am... not apologetic for talking aggressive
Low blood pressure, won't need no stressin'
Don't shoot guns won't be no medic
If you get gassed, you'll be unleaded
Chickens get breaded, your goose got cooked
Salty was your look so you got shook
Reverse my autobiographical book
I'm a singer turned rapper turned king gone crook
[Chorus]
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