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Triple X Soundtrack lyrics Are We Cuttin' lyrics [Intro Pastor Troy] 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 [Chorus CJ (Pastor Troy)] (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) [Verse 1 Pastor Troy] 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? [Chorus] [Verse 2 Pastor Troy] 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 [Chorus] [Verse 3 Ms. Jade] 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 [Chorus 2x to fade] === Nely - Stick Out Ya Wrist [Nelly] Uh, uh-oh Uh, uh uh uh, ay uh uh Uh uh uh, c-mon [Chorus] 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 [Verse 1] 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 [Chorus - Girl] [Nelly] 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 [Verse 2] 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 [Chorus] [Nelly] 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 [Verse 3] 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 [Chorus-x2] [Nelly-x2] 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 Other Triple X Soundtrack lyrics: Feuer Frei lyrics Bodies (Vrenna's XXX Tweaker Mix) lyrics I Will Be Heard lyrics Millionaire lyrics Get Up Again lyrics Landing lyrics Adrenaline lyrics 004 lyrics Stick Out Ya Wrist lyrics Look at Me lyrics Truth or Dare lyrics Still Fly lyrics Connected for Life lyrics Lights Camera Action lyrics Yo, Yo, Yo lyrics Lick lyrics Before I Die lyrics Juicy lyrics Me Vs Me lyrics |