CHARLES HAMILTON - Independent Women lyrics

rate me

Well, well, well. Guess who's back... on your desktop. (He hah) Yea... yea I got a lot to say you better believe it. (He ha ha) First things first: Ah, where my women at?

How many ladies in the house?

How many ladies in the house without a spouse? (You know!)

Something in your blouse got me feeling so aroused

Something-Something in your blouse got me feeling so aroused

On that independent shit, On that independent shit

On that independent shit, On that independent shit

I'm back with another one

God I'm sick of rap made of bubble gum

I promise I can black 'cause it's fucking fun

I'm a casket for tragic accidents that you can rappers

Are you all rap when I spew off facts?

Hey ladies. I'm the rap Val Venus

If it's in the future then believe it I'll see it

Charles Hamilton: is he fucking Tila Tequila?

Puffing weed at the speaker because the beat isn't weeded

Fucking with me because of the heat that I'm stuck with speaking

Nymphomania; master debating

Bastards hating 'cause I'm pass graduation

Act mad. Okay I give in. I succumb to the hate

So I won't have to come in your face, straight

Give me Robin Rihanna and a bong of some ganja

I will probably just sit proper jotting my nonsense like

How many ladies in the house?

How many ladies in the house without a spouse?

How many ladies in the house?

How many ladies in the house without a spouse?

(I'm on Interscope but I'm...)

On that independent shit (Yea) On that independent shit (Yea!)

On that independent shit (I'm back) On that independent shit

Damn, why they wanna stick me 'cause I'm handsome?

Damn son, I'm feeling as if Fifty is my grandson

This whole game is tight 'cause I'm silent

But they step away from the mic when I'm rhyming

Ladies: Am I a guy with a vagina?

A chick with a stick to get rid of these pricks

I should've signed to After-hermaph

I'm not a rapper I'm just a jackass with cash

Dag. Did I grow up with a dad?

Sad: I only make sense on wax

But just like wax, vinyl I black

Until I'm in ya ears, I know: I'm wack

Could've been a wine-o why? To try crack?

I just write crack; Tonight, the Sky asked if

I could get fly to find a climax of your senses

I'm back, did you miss it?

How many ladies in the house?

How many ladies in the house with a spouse?

Something in your blouse got me feeling so aroused.

What you about? (Holla)

On that independent shit

Trade it all, trade it all, trade it all.

You ever wonder what it all really means.

You wonder if you'll ever find your dreams?

I'm only blacking now 'cause that's what I ought to do

Sitting in a chair with wheels but no auto-tune

Sorry Wayne I admit I'm not as smart as you

All I do is spend my time talking to all of you

Haters give me your number and I will be calling you

Don't wanna talk? Don't hit me up I'm ignoring you

In the hood I grew down and we dodged Jake

So I embrace the hate and never dodge Fake

For God's sake I'm enjoy my finance

And I act like a little boy 'cause I can

But the label might drop my ass

I got punched by a girl, who would cop my ass?

Maybe the cops if I dropped her ass

But I'm the one who paid for Briana's boxing class

That night was too hot to smash

But two nights later my God! I spazed! So...

How many ladies in the house?

How many ladies in the house with a spouse?

Something in your blouse got me feeling so aroused.

What you about?

On that independent shit

Trade it all for a husband and some kids

You ever wonder what it all really means

You wonder if you'll ever find your dreams?