bellissima - dj quicksilver lyrics
cam’ron
miscellaneous
intro”(feat. dj kay slay
[cam’ron]
how y’all doin’ out there?
i wanna welcome y’all back
welcome some of y’all for the first time, huh? k!lla
we did it again, y’all don’t f-ck wit us
suck a d-ck man, aiyyo jones, what’s good?
santana, freaky, they gonna be mad this time, huh?
aiyyo i got my man kay slay up in the house
harlem, you know what it is, what’s good?
[kay slay]
you know how we get down, east side, el barrio
[cam’ron]
el barrio up in this b-tch, aiyyo kay
this b-tch blowing up my motherf-ckin phone right now
man, f-ck’ hold up, hol’, yo man
[kay slay]
yo son
[cam’ron]
what’s good?
[kay slay]
i gotta tell you like my dog told me
when you meet a chick, you gotsta straight slap her
[cam’ron]
slap her?
[kay slay]
yeah, when you first meet her, just slap her
[cam’ron]
off the bat?
[kay slay]
off the bat, just backhand her
[cam’ron]
why’s that, though?
[kay slay]
’cause later on down the line
you ain’t never gotsta to worry about
that chick telling you —
“cam, you don’t treat me the way you used to”
[cam’ron]
[laughing] that’s what i’m sayin’ n-gga
but see the thing is with me
i don’t understand how a b-tch can go out
rain, sleet, snow, f-ck, suck whoever
and then go give another n-gga her f-cking money
knawmean?
[kay slay]
nah cam, you gotta understand
that’s cause ya game is tight
[cam’ron]
oh, nah, not me ka’, i’m talking about another n-gga
i know my game is tight, n-gga, knowhaimean?
we getting ready set this sh-t the f-ck off
jones, where we at, huh? harlem, harlem, harlem…
[verse]
yo, yo, i advise you to step son
for i f-ck ya moms, make you my step son
y’all be calling me daddy, cause
the “rag m-ffin” y’all soon say
y’all f-ck around with brother “num-say”
y’all gonna see doomsday
i’m a savage but colder
now i rock karrots that i’m older
see this parrot on my shoulder?
he do the talking, i ain’t concerned with words
act up, and be returned to the birds
i return with them birds, any 28 grams
a b-tch that i touch, pretty much turns to birds
i be in miami, bow-ca-baton, pokin’ ya moms
hauntin’ ya aunt, all over the dawn
using a dope then i’m gone back
cobacabana, no joke i’m bananas
cops come for dope it’s a damper
i’m low in atlanta, get hot, go to savana
rush the crib, go in the hampter
don’t follow me, “stan-a”
if you do, i’m blowin’ the hammer
that’ll rip that vest apart, hit ya chest and heart
i ain’t finished, that’s just the start
you’ll be calling for back up, praying for help
f-ck my life, i’m taking myself
all the achin’ i felt
in my crib at night, praying for wealth
b-tches dissin “what’s the problem ma? i ain’t ballin?”
now every ten minutes, hoes prank callin’
[kay slay]
yo cam, f-ck all this rap sh-t, man
let’s get down to business, harlem
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