Sickalicious (feat. Missy Elliott)

They call me G H E T T O

Black star power like BET shows

I'm usually pulling up in the GT slow

Flashing my ring finger with the ET glow

I'm that nucca act rucka

Certified plat nucca

Semi auto mac bucca

Take that fucker

Lay flat sucker

I'm the Negro amigo

Get every bay from Tampa to Montego

They say I got the lifestyle and the ego

I'm into blue things no matter where he go

I'm that homie

Gat on me

I'm the kid, not that phony

Anybody that know me

Knows I'm here to get that money

Yeah

Hey

Now, get that money

Keep them rims spit-shined

Twenty-four shoes on my Hummer

And they fitting tight

Fabolous and Missy sickalicious right

If you a hater make my gun go

Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka

They call me F A B O L O U S

You just lay down slow

Know this before this trey pound blow

Spit game, get dames to lay down low

I'm the papi chulo

The cops say the tops on the drops is too low

I shop till I drop when I'm copping new clothes

Bop in the hop but don't stop to use hoes

I'm that new dude

That include

Making sure silencers on the gat is screwed

With an it don't even matter mood

And a fuck you, pay me, attitude

I'm that young boy

That slung boy

And have 'em saying, where you get that from, boy?

I'm still leaving **** at one choice

So run when you hear that gun noise

You say you rich

Then come talk that shit to me

Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka

Buy me DVD's and TV's but I like shoes on my jeep

Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka

Twenty-four inch wheels and a grill that glow in the front

Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka

Got a resume for big player gotta do more than treat me to lunch

Hey

Now, get that money

Keep them rims spit-shined

Twenty-four shoes on my Hummer

And they fitting tight

Fabolous and Missy sickalicious right

If you a hater make my gun go

Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka

They call me William H period Bonnie

I ride in a seven series with Tommie's

I make another one of America's hotties

And I'm dead serious, mami

I'm the one like the Jet Li flick

The private jet ski's sick

The motors on the jet ski's quick

The clips in the sets be thick

And I done slipped more shots in then Gretzky's stick

I'm the one like Penny Hardaway's number

That's why dudes say it's hard to keep my broad away from ya

Once your bitch get the god two way number

It'll be hard to get a happy father's day from ya

I'm the one like the piece that's on Nelly's chain

You can't reach me I'm out of your celly range

Bitch, I'll even put canary's in your belly chain

And just to beat the traffic, hop in a heli', man

Hey

Now, get that money

Keep them rims spit-shined

Twenty-four shoes on my Hummer

And they fitting tight

Fabolous and Missy sickalicious right

If you a hater make my gun go

Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka