Boy Boy Cam’ron
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Cam’ron > Boy Boy
| Song Title: | Boy Boy |
| Artist: | Cam’ron Find Cam’ron on Ebay Records and Ebay CD's |
| Hits (Month): | 14 |
| Hits (Total): | 63 |
| Lyrics: |
[Cam:] What up boy, boy?
[Guy:] Ain't nothin' boy, boy, it's good in the hood [Cam:] What's poppin' boy, boy? [Guy:] A lot of these cats fakin' jacks boy, boy My man Smit' over hear, he's got somethin' on his mind [Cam:] 'Sup Smitty? [Guy:] This kid Smitty is acting a little silly right now, boy, boy He don't understand this is real in the hood boy, boy [Cam:] Why you ain't smack boy, boy? [Guy:] Well he got somethin' on his mind, you know what I'm sayin'? I'm tryin' show a little love to him boy, boy, he need to understand I'm tryin' let 'em live boy, boy, this is real ya' understand? You need to stop playin' with me like that boy, boy [Cam:] Yeah, I'm a holla at nigga, boy, boy [Verse 1] Cops bagged me one night, looking for the blow Wen't from Bronxhouse to bookings, bookings to the show From the show to the crib, to the kitchen cookin' Os Kitchen to the car, to the street lookin' for Hos Lookin' for hos, to straight up baggin' one From my game in her brain, ain't no wagon, hun (Ain't no wagon bitch) From the wagon, garage to the house Dinnin' room, kitchen, kitchen to the couch Couch to the bedroom, my dick's in her mouth Bedroom to front door, this bitch getting out (See ya') Front door, to "You know where the Jacuzzi is?" Dress cooley, but usually the Coogi kid, bouchie kid Tell ya boo-bee, a doo-bee did She a houchie groupie Cooley is Who am I? Come on, can't be for-reala Went from Cam to Killa, killa to scrilla, Gorilla From killa to Sky-Scrappers, from sky-scrappers High papers, that's my nature Do five you now, y'all die later Come to your wake, look at you; "Hi hater" From the wake to lot, another boogie From the lot to the hill, to cop somethin' ugly (Ugly) From the hill to that state Dakota From Dakota to the corna, get that bakin' soda, KILLA [Chorus:] Yo, where you from dog? Harlem boy, boy Oh this nigga getting' money? Holla boy, boy Oh this cat over front? Fuck boy, boy He keep that shit up..fucking drop boy, boy Oh you got that hydro? You lyin' boy, boy If you need that dope, though? We got boy, boy But watch your back: from the cops' boy, boy Cause they paper? They wanna stop boy, boy [Verse 2] Aiyoo, I heard you out there shorty..slingin' boy, boy Oh MY god, oh boy, boy Be careful of the motherfuckin' boys, boy Me though? I run THEM boys, boy Lloyd, Floyd, Roy, Soy, Black Bridicks Bitches too, joy toy, what Cat like you? Call you a Gladiator Give her oral, and you happy, Glad-he-ate-her (Stupid) Put ? on the pussy, she a masturbator Put my dick in her mouth, that's what fascinate her I'm a legendary now, past the player, past the player Got the rock? Pass that player I'm like Betty Crocker with cake, that's in layers I had city issues before, ask the mayor (Ask him) He said "Cam'ron, please stop this crack behavior" (Shut the fuck up, man) He ain't know '96, I had a knack for Gators I come through, laugh at haters, bitches too Wanna act, setback, relax a player Cause all these hos jelly you hard When your purlieus are hard And the Chanel, Sklies to Scarfs I stick to their stomachs, their belly's will barf And I take them to the telly where their belly will force "Why fucking me like that? Calm down that's my uterus my serfix, my ovaries" Relax, I'm doin' this Welcome to exclusiveness You about to take a week off, the ultimate freak off Hit Jimmy, Jeulz, Sean, and Zek off Wait a minute ma', wipe that cum on your cheek OFF I hate me a filthy ho, but I like me a silly ho That way you really blow Havin' to fuck cats, she don't really know Then take all her money; you don't feel me, though You don't understand my pimp-ery You love them you got sympathy, fuck that, I'm into me [Chorus] Yo, where you from dog? Harlem boy, boy Oh this nigga getting' money? Holla boy, boy Oh this cat over front? Fuck boy, boy He keep that shit up..fucking drop boy, boy Oh you got that hydro? You lyin' boy, boy If you need that dope, though? We got boy, boy But watch your back: from the cops boy, boy Cause they paper? They wanna stop boy, boy |