this feeling More serious than butterflies My inside's so sore Finding it hard to let go 'Cause I'm still, I'm still in love I'm in love Here we are
More serious than butterflies My inside's so sore Finding it hard to let go Cause I'm still - I'm still in love I'm in Love Here we are again I know
Cause I'm a rapper, I live a life under smoke and full of laughter The police see me and they wanna chase after But they can never catch up cause my social status
the weed smoke makes me wonder How I keep from going under [AZ the Visualiza] And all hoods I hang with mix slang in they language Love, kickin that
wit a hand in my pants, like Al Bundy Get the wack shit from them, and then from me Billy on CD, then cop it bro Only got true love if it profit bro And
the estimate Motherfuckers calculate, then to straight ass shake Thugs hyperventilate, bounce for me baby, baby, show me, show me love For it's 'bout the love
booze Floozies lose it Chasin' bucks where coochie gets absurd at times So I didn't wanna wait Montego Bay, Tobago, or Monaco I gotta go escape the rush My status
(feat. Missy 'Misdemeanor' Elliott & Twista) [Jay-Z] Uh, yo don't get mad at me I don't love 'em I fuck 'em I don't chase 'em I duck 'em I replace '
do it for you broke Yo, cause one's for the money and we on wid da show You didn't think so [CHORUS x3] [OUTRO: Tara Chase] Ms. Tara Chase, Kardinal
duel Dynamically wit the lyrical tool Fuel on the fire warms the desire To get this rap game stretched down to the wire, sire My pimp-hog status will
ma plate that glory I'ma chase that, I'ma I'ma chase that glory I'ma chase that, I'ma I'ma chase that ugh, I remember chasing the green feeling blue
a dime (word up) Get my swerve on, make it hot, word bond I'm lickin on your ankle bracelet We'll be sippin Moet with strawberries to chase it I'm nasty
it's like that I love me more I love the peace and I love the war I love the seas and I love the shore No love for no beach, baby that's lore But she
Twista) [Jay-Z] R-O-C Memph Bleek Jigga man Missy, Twista sho' nuff Yeah, yo Don't get mad at me I don't love 'em I fuck 'em I don't chase 'em I duck
, it's no more stolen cars Fightin' over tuna cans and living off granola bars I put my work in like the Older Gods And gotta mob with status, Martin
