THE BOSS HOG BARBARIANS

THE BOSS HOG BARBARIANS - You Got Mail lyrics

rate me

[AOL sample stutters and slows down: "Y-y-y-y-y-y-you've got mail!"]

[C.T.:] Bim bim

[Zone:] Oh damn!

[C.T.:] Ha ha

[Zone:] This beat sound like some pimp shit

[Zone:] Yo Celph, you made this beat?!

[C.T.:] Damn straight

[Zone:] How come you didn't tell me you could make shit like this man?

[C.T.:] Oh you ain't know?

[C.T.:] I got some shit for these hoes

[Celph Titled:]

This bitch better whip out a credit card to pay for this dinner

It's her birthday and I ain't got NUTTIN to give her

Except this dick and directions to the front door

Try to take my wallet and I'm lettin the gun pour

I'm from Florida where them cockroaches be runnin rampant

Yes I'm the Dirty South Lieutenant, motherfucker god damnit

You want money I said no, act up and you dead hoe

You wanna slurp? Call me on my cell that's my head-phone (bitch)

Fuck chickenheads in the morning, give 'em the early bird special

And this relationship ain't goin to the next level (nope!)

Talk back and a bitch'll fall flat

Cause I'm the type to beat a broad with a wiffleball bat

Throw a bag over an ugly bitch before I let my cock skeet

That's what I call disguisin the Hump, like I was Shock G (hahaha)

Your idea of eating out, is clit lips

Mine is doggy bags and quick trips to Popeye's for biscuits

BITCH!

[Chorus: Boss Hog Barbarians]

We just ballin gettin fetti everyday on the grind

The postman got mail for me

Cause we all about our scratch, never savin a batch - bitch

The postman got mail for me

Only fur coats and gold chains, pimpin these hoes mayne

Hogs up, hoes down, game recognize game

The postman got mail for me, bitch

The postman got mail for me

[J-Zone:]

J-Zone as a kid I was chubby, heh, as I got older I got skinny

Only thing that ain't changed I'm still ugly

But a bitch'll still love me (that's right) even though I ain't pretty

She be like, "His dick is still chubby!"

That bitch bought me a rugby when my mink was in the shop

Don't kiss or hug me, wash my dick in the sink and I hop

We call your girl Triple P Paulette (why?)

Take her to Popeye's, the parking lot, and Port Authority and then jet

Go to dinner? Not today, we just ran a train on her

And it bang louder than the A in Far Rockaway

I still live with my grandmoms and don't have a job; it's frightenin

Cause all you punks wanna be just like him

I'm a loser and a herb in every sense of the word

But I don't give a FUCK I'll still get wit'cho bird

Then I stuff her and roast her like it's late November

Then I duck that broke hoe cause her friend looks better

Ya BITCH!

[Chorus]

[J-Zone:]

Celph Titled made a pimped out beat for me to rock

And turn my nose up to broke sluts on my cock

"Yo no tengo hay dinero," you better change the subject

You speakin Broken-ese and we from Cut-a-Check Republic

South Jamaica Queens to Tampa

Our presence felt, every summer like cancers

We eat collard greens for breakfast

And keep shit greasy like Soul Train scramble board contestants

[Celph Titled:]

Me and your girl we ain't talkin much but when we fuck

I'm playin greatest hits from Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch

Blow a bitch to pieces, strap grenades on her back

Now the way I'm gettin ass, it just falls in my lap

I'm a +Midnight Marauder+, stick a Q-Tip in your pussy

That's my +Low End Theory+, I'm at the player's ball yearly

No you ain't never been inside (nope) and I'ma get the Mexicans

to fuck up Xzibit again if he don't Pimp My Ride

[Chorus]

[J-Zone:]

Hey yo, I got one question man

How come y'all shit don't sound like this?

I mean, I'm sayin

This our.. I see you over there hatin man

Fuck you man

This shit is, yo Celph this shit

Yo Celph you a beast for this, GOD DAMN!

Yo man

I don't understand man whassup whassup with these rappers

that ain't got no fuckin bass in they shit man

Why why is that

You rappers is fuckin allergic to bass man

I'm sick of hearin beats that ain't got no bass man

This that Boss Hog shit man

Type of shit to blow your Alpines man

You don't know nuttin about this man, God damn

That's the shit you make that ugly gorilla face to man

But with me it comes easy I'm an ugly nigga

But you know what, I don't give a fuck

Cause I got bass in my shit

Yo Celph you got bass in this motherfuckin beat man

This shit sound evil, OH MY GOD~!

This is Boss Hog, stop bein jealous man

We make it look TOO EASY

Ay bitch, pass my Malibu and shut the fuck up

Don't put no ice cubes in my shit

Did I tell you, did I tell you I wanted Coke in my Malibu?

Straight, I don't

I don't mix, Coke and soda and all that shit with my

Give me my shit straight

This is Boss Hog man

This ain't no Cosmopolitans man

What part of the game is that?

Yo Celph let's get out of here and go count some more money man

[samples to close:]

We take a bitch up to snow and make her get out

Bitch get out! (In a G-string) Knahmsayin?

If we like the hoe, here take a shot of Hennessy

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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