don't know that we going back to the crib She know that I'm on her She don't know that we going back to the crib Back to the crib, yeah She wanna roll
Smooth Criminal, you couldn't Trace Me (Tracy), like Morgan, Yeah, Yeah, And I don't even Colla Back, I ain't Gwen Stefani, I don't holla back, Yeah
we going back to the crib, she know that I?m on her, she don?t know that we going back to the crib, back to the crib, yeah, [Juelz Santana] she wanna
help them back Let's handle that In two-to-six hours, We'll meet back here and regroup Now let's shoop Roll up to her crib with some Bartles & James
the only thing inside my mind is (mmmhmmm) I want you Yes I do, and if there's anything you suggest I do Then tell me Now we all in the crib on my
She love a go on the hoodie-hood-hood Takin' the whole thing like I knew she could Pimp who? Baby, you sexy, scratch my back Bite my lips, just like that Baby, you sexy, scratch my back
Never shoulda came within range of my Rover shoulda known I was trouble Soon as I rolled up, any chick who's dumb enough that there I blindfold up She still come back to the crib
Sitting at the crib with my feet up Phone starts ringing, getting blown up Got another show that I putted up It never slows down You walk in and throw
is all I need Grab my hand and Baby, we'll live a hell of a life One day I'm gon' marry a porn star We'll have a big-ass crib and a long yard We'll
Ran out of ammo and started, throwin' bottles Runnin' and I ain't lookin back for shit Crooked ass bitch, today I get you back for this I'll get you back
[P. Diddy] This goes out to my nigga B.I.G. Listen to me playboy, check dis out I go, on and on and on and Won't take her to the crib unless she's bonin
see blacks beefin' Y'all still sleepin' and we still eatin' Still bring that heat, wilin' out on the weekends Still happy in black and don't need a reason Still platinum back
the chest that you tried to protect Take the voice that you try to project, check Darin' you to kid, cat shootin' sperm in you wiz I'm why you smell herb in the crib
Real niggaz do real things Hanging wit' the niggaz is the song I sing Real niggaz do real things After mad blunts and gin we had the plan made I bought my wifey a crib
had this bad bitch uptown, she was whoa! (OH THAT'S CRAZY) Almost had me pushing up daisies (OH THAT'S CRAZY) Had some big nigga with keys to the crib
you, always ill) With my demeanor, flip, assemble my own team to Say fuck FEMA in case there's another Katrina You laughed at the past, said I was a dreamer But it is back
Now how you ain't gon' change the locks? (OH THAT'S CRAZY) Didn't sit there and call the cops (OH THAT'S CRAZY) Got in bout the back door LIKE WHOA (OH
