Joy (feat. Mike Jones)

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah

Hey, hello, who is it?

Boy scouts

Oh no

Don't you know not ever disturb a woman when she's cooking her favorite recipe

Hey lady look, that's a jack move

Fried chicken, pork chop, chitlins, collard greens

What's wrong with you, eh?

I have to get back to the kitchen

My cabbage is burning

Yeah, I want the cabbage and ya collard greens

All of it, right now

Besides, you're making me miss my favorite episode Fear Factor

I wonder if the ribs are done

I'm gon' get the pump, I'm gonna get the pump

You boys want to know chef's favorite recipe for main course?

I don't wanna know no chef recipe, go ahead, get the pump

Good, I tell you

You take a half a teaspoon of Mary J. and Ciara

Yeah, yeah, he gon' come back with the burner

With a dash of Slick Rick

Yeah I'ma stick, yeah, yeah, okay

It's easy as 1-2-3, play

Yeah, well you play, play

Next you mix in a Romation and a Quran

In a Bangladesh style bowl to make some Nisan Stewart

I'm back, oh I'm back

Yeah, now what now?

Mix some Campbell's Soup

And then?

I prefer Warryn style myself, personally

Add a pinch of Fantasia

And then?

And a grand-sized Puba

Then you sprinkle one Scoop Fatman throughout to add flavor

And a dab of Soul Diggaz

Hey

Then you throw a tablespoon of Timbaland

And a half a Neptune smothered in hot Scott Storch dressing

We gon' smother you in some hot sauce

Whatever you said

And you serve with a side order of Mike Jones

Mike Jones? Who?

Mike Jones

It's best served with a cold brew

Whichever you prefer

And there you have it kiddies

This is my perfect recipe for a delicious meal

Enjoy

Joy

Joy

Joy

So sick

Joy

Timbo, what they do

They try to be like Missy but they have no clue

On how I'm spittin' over beats the way I move

I move so smooth in my shell-toe shoes

Now put the needle on the record, show 'n prove

Since '92, I came to win and never lose

They try to stop a chubby chick from comin' through

My belly out and sellin' out these venues

My skills will fulfill those who drink booze

My attitude is super cool like I'm subdued

And those who fake I take on you and your dudes

I rule the streets I break 'em down with no tools

And Misdemeanor give the finger to ya fools

(Holla)

Whoever doubted that I'm 'bout it check the news

And if you snooze on me this year your ass will lose

Cause I will bruise, my loose screws is like ooh

When I come out get your release dates moved

Joy

This year y'all will all lose sleep

I break them off somethin', break them off somethin'

Joy

This year y'all will all lose sleep

Joy

This year y'all will all lose sleep

When I break them off somethin', break them off somethin'

Joy

Big shout out to Timberland

This year you hear a real MC

When I break break b-b-break break break

I flow over a beat that make a chick weave blow

And those who try to compete to the wall I throw

So I drop it low, 8-0-8 kick low

Like oh oh-oh oh, oh oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh

Mr. Mos, this beat he compose

While I kill the track, leave your ears decomposed

Fake rappers, this year your lies will be exposed

Like oh oh-oh oh, oh Missy steal the show-ow-ow

(Holla)

Spit on breakbeats, make rappers lose sleep

Make labels unable drop they artists on leak

I keep 'em knee deep, need me, be me

Hardly, and basically, I do it nice and slow-ow-ow

I'm slowin' the track down

So you don't miss the shit

That Misdemeanor talkin' like that chronic

Get you super high

This year y'all will all lose sleep

Joy

I break them off somethin', break them off somethin'

Joy

This year you hear a real MC

Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh

Joy

This year y'all will all lose sleep, when I

Mike Jones

Break them off somethin', break them off somethin'

Mike Jones, who? Mike Jones

This year you hear a real MC

Yeah

Break them off somethin', break them off somethin'

See I'm a pimp that's on my grind, I hustle like all the time

I speak what's on my mind, my teeth'll make you blind

My heat'll lay you down, whenever you come around

Forsaken out there mistreated your life'll be deleted

Cause I don't play dat, you know I don't play dat

Wherever you talkin' noise is where you gon' lay at

I'm Supa Dupa Fly like Missy Missy

Before the fame game majors used to diss me

But now I'm on top, I'm hot I can't stop

Before my deal came my shows was sold out

House been on the hill, diamonds been in my grill

I'm trill like U-G-K, you know I keep it real

I'm who, Mike Jones, who? Mike Jones

Who? Mike Jones and I can't be cloned

2-8-1, 3-3-0, 8-0-0-fo'

That's my cell phone number, hit me on the low

I got

Hold up, I see a lot of folks in here sittin' 'round like your shoes too tight'

If you wear a size 10, don't cram yo' shit up in a size 6 ladies

Be proud of yo' big-ass feet

We came to party up in this bitch