Jennifer Hudson - Pocketbook lyrics

rate me

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Say it again? Oh

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Check this out here

Looking at my body

I bet you thinkin' bout it

Don't cha wanna know how I get down (uh huh)

Take a number baby

You ain't the only brother

Trying to get up under my skirt now (uh huh)

Rockin all your hot shit, stuntin'

Thinking that your God's gift, to woman

More like a buzz in my ear

Shoo fly don't bother me

I got my hair in a pony tail

And by all mean

Trust me I can get it off

They say I stride like a model

Curves like a bottle

Watch me as I hit the wall

And I make em' say

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Da Da Da Da Don't make me (Oh)

Tell ya baby daddy

He ain't holding no weight

Cause he got cake, and no knife

Ain't nobody cutting so cut it out,

Cut it out, alright

So you 'gon know my face now, got it

Looking at me from the waist down, stop it

Said I'm hard pill to swallow fella

But I can make you feel better

I got my hair in a pony tail

like Naomi

Trust me I can get it off

They say I stride like a model

Curves like a bottle

Watch me as I hit the wall

And I make em' say, hey

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook, oh hey

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Don't make me hit you with my, uh

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Oh Ah, Oh Ah, Oh

Hey, Hey, Get it ya'll

Said you got a lot of nerve (lot of nerve)

Playing with my feelings boy

Do you always speak before you think? (Do you gotta? Ah Ah)

Lucky me, I know the game

I'm a flip my hair and walk away

If you follow me it's on and poppin'

Cause I think ya can have the pocket

(Luda!), Before ya make me, Oh!

Before I make you too wet, girl you know you want it

Your body's nice, but eh, you need some Luda on it

So find a matress so we can start jerkin on it, movin' on it,

Baby cause tonight's the night

For you to rock up on the mic cause I rocks the mic (right)

It's Chris Mind Freak in the back of a rolls

I know magic, proof, and do away with ya clothes

Then come here and let Luda give that body a rub

Cause Damn little mama you thick as a muth

Just how them southern boys like it

Hurry up and get me some punch, I might spike it

Party in my Babsen, yes your invited

So we can make a wet scene and we can win an Oscar

All up in your best dream

Girl I think you know you're driving me crazy

They jingling baby, Go 'head baby!

With two hams in your pants girl, I think you's a crook

Let me touch what's under that-

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook

Thanks to NettaLaTrice for these lyrics