HANDSOME BOY MODELING SCHOOL - First...And Then lyrics

rate me

(feat. Dres)

[Dres whispering:]

Shhh.. I'm sayin' I wasn't even gonna do this shit..

But I owe this motherfucker a favor

Y'all motherfuckers better stay quiet

[Verse 1:]

Open the door, catch ya, coping for more

told you before, velvet, smooth as velour

Step in the light, Black Sheep, reppin it right

never we hide, too much ebony pride

Something to see, scratch that, something to be

paying my dues, god knows, there's nothing for free

Taking it back, paper, making a stack

counter-attack, dance floors, making them crack

Running the course, got black, running with force

rocking the spot, got y'all, loving the choice

Feeling the flame, Black Sheep, killing the pain

spilling the love, sunshine, feeling the same

Setting the tone, Black Sheep, let it be known

cooler than ice, hemming it up, keeping it's own

Making it knock, all the way from the writer's block

geek in ox tails, with cocktails, holding my cock! Yo!

[Chorus:]

First. Excel with the XL, and then, call your crew on your Nextel

and then, open up a beer and roll an L, and then, party all night n rest well

But first, excel with the XL, and then everything you do you do it well

and then, even if your hurt you never tell, and then, everybody love the clientele

[Verse 2:]

I'm the type to not follow, lead and drop throttle

recline and pop bottles with designer top models

The type to not sweat it, stacking not regret it

said it with hot head, my thing, got to get it

I move, like a phantom, amidst the meddlesome

destined to hit the top, tight as the kettledrum

Kennel one pedigree, the flow stay dingee

share my point of view in a world waste din gee

I be the principal, that be invisible

there be no obstacle, above the pinnacle

Blow like I got a fuse, for when you got to choose

who in a lot of crews, a million molecules

There won't be no debate, my skills are overweight

if you can't hold your hate, I over compensate

It's Dres, D - R - E - S, the one that does it best

my styles illustrious, my moves are limitless

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]

Now it doesn't even matter if I do or if I don't have dough

It's like I'm walking on red carpet everywhere that I go

A renegade with rhymes rolling to the tune, low key

opposite the velvet ropes where Heinekens flow free

And I'm known throughout the world for what I do with one bar

slap a rapper even crack a nigga lower lumbar

Ain't gotta front for nada, it don't mean a thing

the only keys I got are the one's swinging on my key ring

Ain't gotta toss threats, throw bows, or dress funny

just gotta be Dres, stay black, and get money

Ain't gotta smoke weed, pop ex, or sniff blow

just gotta be Dres, stay black, and get dough

So cool, they called me old school in the eighties

with ladies in their Mercedes at the foot of the good Fridays

On some handsome boy shit, telling her to trust me

till she's speaking in tongues, screaming out 'muck fe'

[Chorus]