Triple X (xXx): Soundtrack - Are We Cuttin' Тексты

Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here girl

Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here girl

Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here girl

Ha-ha, ha-ha



(Oooooooh) Baby what' your name?

(Oooooooh) Are you wearin Bugle Boy jeans?

(Hell naw ooooooh) I heard you was from Atlanta

(Oooooooh) But baby please excuse my manners, I just wanna know

Are we cuttin'?!

Are we cuttin'?!

Are we cuttin'?!

(Oooooooh hell yea, yeah yeah yea)

(Oooooooh she won't see tomorrow, if I don't cut tonight)



Yeah, Friday night (yeah), yeah, ballin' homes (yeah)

Got a n*gga smellin' fresh as a rose

Grab my kicks and tuck my clothes (yes y'all)

There's a knife, and this is the life

Pastor, ya tell me how ya love that?

Let a n*gga see that pussy crack, where you at? (uh)

The dance flo' (yeah) that's my shit (yeah)

Baby girl let ya hair down

Show a n*gga what you workin' wit, twurkin' wit

I ammm low-key you don't wanna leave (c'mon baby)

You don't wanna go back to the sweet (c'mon)

Let you caress my feet, huh, now what you wanna know?





Off the chain, damn, damn boo

Where ya been all my lifetime?

Let me fuck ya ?ill the sun shine (uh huh) uh huh (uh huh)

What I do? (whoaa) mind my bizz

No I can't take ya home wit me

Baby girl, it is what it is, show biz

Saturday morn' (damn) damn I'm weak

Knew wassup when you came to the room

Talkin' about getting' some free chee-ba!

The truth, shorty got loose

Sorry, but all I needed was a pretty red substitute





What you talkin'?

I, bring heat when it's hawkin

Cause I, can't stand a man that don't understand

I'm weighing kilos and grams the bitch wit the upper-hand

I'm, bout to kill it, you, dealin' wit the realest

Fuck the strawberry's and chocolate (ohh)

Hennessy and the condoms, say they kissin' and grindin'

It's all about the timin'; I, really like vice-versa

But, tonight's much worsa', and um

Philly chick you only travel wit for best of men

Hand me out Atlanta just to see you in your belt and Timb's

Pastor Troy, won't you just pass the boy

In a, split second I'm answerin' all questions

You dummies are still convinced how money make you undress

And so tell me



===

Nely - Stick Out Ya Wrist



Uh, uh-oh

Uh, uh uh uh, ay uh uh

Uh uh uh, c-mon



Hey Mister

Stick out ya wrist, how many in this

Stick out ya chest, are those baguettes

I need to see how deep them pockets get

Let me see if all that shit you talkin really legit



15 miles an hour, maybe so

You can make it straight from your seat to your front door

You can get a glimpse of the one that they call mo'

Mr. low-pro, fans peepin like der he go

Two lane now, put yo bite on me

Y'all done waited too long, I got a tax ID

Right ID, proper registration never thought I'd see

Full coverage on my feet

Hold up, slow it down and let me think about it

Froze up, erraything that you can see around me

My neck, wrist, arm, the whole nine

I done took you best shot, now dirty you hold mine

Got cats goin to jail, tryin to do what I do

I got cats goin through hell, when the thang come through

2-0-2, light grey blue

Stiched in the carpet, you know who-ooh





Ok, now let me see ya do it baby

Don't be afraid go now

Don't be ashamed of how ya do it baby

Just go ahead and make yo mama proud



Jack Frost, fuck it! what is cost

Who the boss, flossin is applesauce

Dirty 3rd grade, bought milk on thursday

Now I buy Escalades on birthdays

Lex and Merced eez on deez

E's off these, n-u-t's

I cough and sneeze, for frost bit sleeves

It's not just me, but really my family

You want the run down, keep it poppin to sun down

Dirty come now, I'm a show you who run the town

Your baby daddy is most hated, can't listen to my song

When he at home, irrated when the video on

I'm makin ones with them niggas see my ass in the club

Puffin the bud, and spendin a hundred for every dub

What he got in his hand, I'm at it again

But I really can't stand, a lunatic plan - work it





Ok, now let me see ya do it baby

Don't be afraid go now

Don't be ashamed of how ya do it baby

Just go ahead and make yo mama proud



You can call me what you want, but call me a come up

Before you run up, make sure your funds up (why)

I'm gonna buy some shit out of herr you ain't never seen

But probly wrist bands, mo denim starched jeans

Diablo boots with the posher string

I'll take a cream-a-team shirt with the bentley sleeves

Four-door swoosh, made by nike

Drop-top jumpan suit by mike e

Got to like my playa, I'm in it for the dough

I'm in it for show, matter fact I'm in it to blow

When I wake up in the mornin, I'll be in it some mo

Garunteed anytime, dial 3-1-4

Do any escargo, gotta S car the go

0 to 60 dirty in four point 0

Second ranking niggas every where dat I go

I got the same, gotta have it, gotta have it for show





Ok, now let me see ya do it baby

Don't be afraid go now

Don't be ashamed of how ya do it baby

Just go ahead and make yo mama proud
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