Bring 'em in baby, bring 'em on in Hey, hey now Bring 'em on home Bring 'em in, hey, hey, hey Bring 'em on home, all right Bring 'em on home I said
some panties on And them Bape socks that I gave you Never once on probation but your man's on his papers Spendin' them, stackin' them, feelin' them Wrappin' em, lightin' em
roof is cavin' in Uh, it's time to raise it, then Your tasin' them with like pages in My book of rhymes got 'em cookin' Boy, this crooked mind of mine got 'em
I ain't goin' out You used to be the the only girl a nigga would think about I got a couple girls on call, I'm goin' to bring them out Imagine me seein
to represent for 'em I never let you down I'mma shine on sight Keep your mind on your grind and off of mines, alright? Hard, I'mma ball on them squares
bang I shoot 'em bang, bang I shoot 'em bang, bang I line them up and watch them fall I shoot 'em bang, bang I shoot 'em bang, bang I line them up and watch them
why I tuck em in not givin' a fuck again D.R.A you add the K.E a hundred grand and you lables can not Play me I'll never go broke Fuck em I'm flashin
to wall in the VIP The age don't mean a thing I ain't G Ali I bring them out with no ID Them boys they bring them out like I'm T.I.P. (Chorus) Come
Yeah t-t-t-t-t-tell them niggaz why you mad son! Tell them niggaz why you mad son! (OK, gentlemen please, one at a time) Tell em why you mad son,
i know who killed em' filled em with them lugers from they rugers on they deserts dyin' aint the shit but it's pleasant kinda quiet watch my niggas bring
I sips Dom Pierre Floss through the ave all them hoes wanna stare Oh yeah? I'm up in your life, play you trife Brook-lyn, bring it on nigga Chorus
I'm tired of niggas hating on a muthafucka Let's take it to the next millennium on these bitches You got to keep bubblin' on 'em Platinum doublin' on 'em
-G Fin' to get up on the mic with a passion Get up on some pads Gwen, my chick get her ass in For the track, make my money Bring it on back to the middle
intelligent Made 30 offa Def Jam I was killin 'em Did cash on One-Sixteen I was feelin 'em Them days kept a crisp cold dollar bill on 'em I lived it out
I see the end to me and BIG meet again, yeah Curry going, hit again Dreams your living in This what you coulda been Every city foot scene gets scrilla with 'em
icky icky situation But you know somethin', I have faith in the Bad Boys Bad Boys bring it on home, bring it on home Bad Boys Heh, I'm 'bout to do Santa Dimengo on
I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead 'Cause when it's on then it's on, the
a red range Pretty lady go on do dat dance Pretty lady go on do dat dance Sexy momma go on do dat dance Sexy momma go on do dat dance Pretty lady go on
