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So I told shorty I be producing, I be making those beats |
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Be making those hits, ya know |
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So I told her my name, My name is Tone |
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She said 'Town!!' |
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You know like she never heard of me, ya know |
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So I said okay you may know me by my other name |
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Sometimes they call me |
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[R. Kelly] |
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TRACK-MAS-STER |
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[Jay-Z] |
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We see you Tone |
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Tone the referee |
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We see you, baby |
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[R. Kelly] |
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C'mon Shorty |
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That nigga Hov |
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[Jay-Z] |
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Holla |
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[R. Kelly] |
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Yall niggas don't understand |
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[Jay-Z] |
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Uh-uh, they dont understand |
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Flow for'em |
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No lemme sing for em |
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Just sing for'em |
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[R. Kelly] |
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Check It |
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Mr. Kell |
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Its like this, some of yall niggas got, legs for lips |
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Running ya mouth mad cuz I, pop that Cris |
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Go up in 3-10, and cop that six |
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Then roll around with yo cheeesseee |
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Some of yall niggas mad cuz I drop these hits |
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Thug ass nigga, on some, R&B Shit |
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Now that shit done fucked around and, made me rich |
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And, For those of you who don't like it, yall can suck my 'Uhhhh!!' |
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These honies to my suite like I'm, the Pidi piper |
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Body ass, hitin high notes, like they Mariah |
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Get that pussy wet enough to put out a bonfire |
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She be like 'Wooooooo', and I be like 'Wooooooo' |
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When her tides got high, fuck it Ima Don |
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Runnin late for the studio, fuck it I'm bout to come |
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Dress cold at club fuck it Air Force I's |
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Said I wouldn't mention Sisqo, fuck he's a bum |
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Ally boom, buaya, Hit you with the right hook |
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You be like, what the fuck was that |
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Me and Jigga, we are like the industries popo |
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Nigga yall best shit can't even fuck with our demo's |
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Shorty |
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[Chorus 2X: R. Kelly] |
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From New York on to L.A. (Shorty) |
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Chi-Town we freak the night away (Shorty) |
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Miami all the pretty girls (Shorty) |
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We know chicks all around the world (Shorty) |
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[Jay-Z] |
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Shorty, what yo name is? |
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Shorty, who yo man is? |
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C'mon and make moves with a dude who move cane |
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Like a old man, you know who game this is, Young Hov |
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Name is respected in fifty different languages, mommy come roll |
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I keep a jet on the runway, Sunday in Paris, London on Monday |
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Back to L.A. |
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This aint rap, this is real, I could trip and have a meal |
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In three hours ma the streets will be ours (Wooooooo) |
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Shorty, I got something for you, Wouldn't give a chick a dime before |
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but now I wanna spoil you |
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Shorty, The trips to the gucc shop, getcha cooch hot |
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How bout I do a helipads on the roof top |
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Shorty, Ya hella rag, your my rock star Shorty |
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Heres my number shit, you don't gotta to call me |
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Shorty |
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[Chorus 2x] |
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[R. Kelly] |
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I'm chillin in my 4.6, at the light |
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5 o'clock in the morning, been drinking all night |
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And, Plus I'm high, but it aint over |
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4 slim bodies scooped me in a wide body rover |
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Panties and bras all the way from the bed to the sofa |
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For all you R&B so called playas, I'm bout to coach ya |
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Sit right there, and watch me freak yo girl chocha |
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Tounge all down her throat as if a nigga was trying to choke her |
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Its The Best Of Both Worlds, stickin ya in the 'uhhhhhh!!' |
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Put ya hands up like it's money in the air |
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We bout to rip these charts like Zorro Blade |
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So hot your gonna need a cold glass of lemonade |
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To all my real live niggas, that shoot dice and play spades |
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In a nice crib, word up, drinking the Maid |
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On the rizel my nizel, that nigga Jigga is the dizel |
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R. Kizel in the hotel swizel's chicks on the mizel's |
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[Chorus 2x] |
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Shorty |
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Shorty |