|
Murphy Lee - Red Hot Riplets lyrics
Yea Nice cold glass With a nice bottle of OVL And you better be feelin my shit man Now now Cause you beg too much Gimme gimme got shit Cause you beg too much Gimme gimme got shit Cause you beg too much Gimme gimme (Nelly) I'm automatical emphatical radical Even I wanna clear all the misconceptions and shit you believe in I'm leavin nothin to the imagination I wanna earn my emancipation proclamation through the radio stations Facin me ain't that hard but it ain't that easy I like the girl that win to play hard, and win to play easy Believe me George and Weezy couldn't move up this fast I'm laughin everybody can't tell if I'm first or last It won't hurt your ass but it might hurt yo ass They gon trip and find Dirty got the perfect stash The perfect gat, liftin your ass thought I would run Laughin at them niggas thought that Dirty was done I'm a son of a G I'm not a son of a bitch I'm makin sure that my son and my sons gon be rich Makin daughters and my daughters in no particular order I leave em layin up out the water with straps to protect their borders (Chorus) I need some Kool-Aid (Whaaaaaaaat?) Wit my Red hot riplets (tell em what ya tell em whatcha mean man) You all that and a bag of chips And I just wanna know if me and you can dip that's all I need some Kool-Aid (Whaaaaaaaat?) Wit my Red hot riplets (tell em what ya tell em whatcha mean man) You all that and a bag of chips And I just wanna know if me and you can dip that's all Baby girl, you sweeter then Kool-Aid, the red flavor Ooh thats my favorite Yea I know my game is major She gave me her card, she said I can page her I was gonna wait a couple days but I did her a favor I call her now Invite myself, awake the neighbors, be loud Swoop in like the caped crusader (du duh du duh!) Without the cape without the tights Her baby daddy was the type that had a truck like mine No beast rims no dual pipes Of course that, I loved her apple bottom short set She got upset, I said she couldn't find for cigarettes (why not?) Small brat And used to cast with short stacks If she asked me for somethin Drop her off where the porch at I'm on a mission, turn the keys in the ignition Beat steady beatin, tweeters steady whistlin See seen my glisten she started to trip Murph, she's all that and a bag of chips -Chorus- (Murphy Lee) Listen I want some moonshine nigga I'm in Cali and Cancun No goin out I like to stay in my damn room (Daaamn!) She got a donkey oh this must be a damn zoo (Ooooooh!) Look at the monkey oh she must be a baboon Please don't feed me momma I'm like an animal Especially after twelve can you handle my stamina? You won't believe the things I said when you walked by My ganka wit is on but its high when I talk high Now ought I take you home but am I wrong I'm a kid ma you know I don't wanna be on my lone Plus I felt something now when we was dancin on that song I like togetherness can we all get along Can we all get in my car and talk about it in the morn And make decisions when we wake up and yawn Come on you can tell me if you like it or not Cause I'ma have my Kool-Aid and my Riplets red hot -Chorus- Yo yo The mother fuckers just too damn hot Nigga like we buyin a window Cost a good line and even get shot to find a Endo Bein Red Hot Riplets promotin passin out snippets And you walkin with the triplets out clubbin lookin terrific I need some Kool-Aid Shit I got to get it win it Put my spoon up in ya bitch and see if ya fit up in it (Damn) Spoke for a second (Damn) told her our record Told the groupie connection Got them womens all will get naked So the Lunatics Told her how I reflect it Let me show you from the Show-Me no talk for sure respect it And you're red hot but not to say your head not It's the rap Fred Flintstone, makin the bed rock Give it to you never bellin ya Handle bizness I'm tellin ya If you ever need me again I be through then I'ma see ya girl And I'ma store your number under Red Hot Riplets and Kool-Aid |
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Christmas Fantasy by Anita Baker |
 Call Me Irresponsible by Michael Buble |
 Payback by Brownside |
 The Massacre by 50 Cent |
 Twenty Four Seven by Tina Turner |
