Phil Breadstax
P-H, homie get straight, with an I and an L, got 'em pissing like Kells
And he feeling himself, guest host on Oprah, told ya, drop another single named grope Her
So good, bounce to the rhythm man, shake that ass, down South to the middle man
Slap these keys, 'til the pussy get pleased, I'm Phil, got a lot of skill, never pay the bill
Swamp dwelling, propelling, these emotions, oh he's so outspoken
Heard they caught him smoking on a zip, down on 9th and 5th
Heard he's with the shits, kill you and then kill your bitch
That's a fact, heard he owns a mac, and heard that it goes blat (Whoa)
Sick, twisted, and mental, and he's balding in a few places, not racist
Yeah, he fuck with all Jamaicans and Haitians, but
Don't you double cross this little nigga, I ain't fucking with ya
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice, yeah, the boy got juice
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two but I'm feeling like six-eight, damn, popped my cherry in the 6th grade
Always fornicating, baby got the water waiting, let me touch down on a brand new Sound
Let me lick a ittle little bitty titty, got me feeling nitty gritty, rep my city-ity, nigga is you With me
I wanna holla holla, let me get a dollar, pop your collar, homie, 'cause you really looking Like a star
Drag you back to the bar, where I parked my car, hands up, 'cause we're going for a Joyride
Say bye bye to your whole life, I don't think twice, I just know how to cut right
Can't deal with these snakes, and, can't deal with these snitches
Cup my hands up before bedtime 'cause I know that god gon' listen
Sick, twisted, and mental, and he's balding in a few places, not racist
Yeah, he fuck with all Jamaicans and Haitians, but
Don't you double cross this little nigga, I ain't fucking with ya
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice, yeah, the boy got juice
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
And he feeling himself, guest host on Oprah, told ya, drop another single named grope Her
So good, bounce to the rhythm man, shake that ass, down South to the middle man
Slap these keys, 'til the pussy get pleased, I'm Phil, got a lot of skill, never pay the bill
Swamp dwelling, propelling, these emotions, oh he's so outspoken
Heard they caught him smoking on a zip, down on 9th and 5th
Heard he's with the shits, kill you and then kill your bitch
That's a fact, heard he owns a mac, and heard that it goes blat (Whoa)
Sick, twisted, and mental, and he's balding in a few places, not racist
Yeah, he fuck with all Jamaicans and Haitians, but
Don't you double cross this little nigga, I ain't fucking with ya
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice, yeah, the boy got juice
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two but I'm feeling like six-eight, damn, popped my cherry in the 6th grade
Always fornicating, baby got the water waiting, let me touch down on a brand new Sound
Let me lick a ittle little bitty titty, got me feeling nitty gritty, rep my city-ity, nigga is you With me
I wanna holla holla, let me get a dollar, pop your collar, homie, 'cause you really looking Like a star
Drag you back to the bar, where I parked my car, hands up, 'cause we're going for a Joyride
Say bye bye to your whole life, I don't think twice, I just know how to cut right
Can't deal with these snakes, and, can't deal with these snitches
Cup my hands up before bedtime 'cause I know that god gon' listen
Sick, twisted, and mental, and he's balding in a few places, not racist
Yeah, he fuck with all Jamaicans and Haitians, but
Don't you double cross this little nigga, I ain't fucking with ya
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice, yeah, the boy got juice
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Stand four-two, but the boy got juice (Boy who, boy who)
Credits
Writer(s): Trey Charles
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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