Pocketbook

Give it to me
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Say it again? Oh
Don't make me hit with my pocketbook
Check this out here
Lookin' at my body I bet you
thinkin' 'bout it don't you wanna know how I get down?
Take a number baby you ain't the
only brother trynna get up under my skirt now
(Talkin' all your hot shit, stuntin'
Think that you're God's gift, to women)
More like a buzz in my ear piece
Shoo fly don't bother me
I got my hair in a ponytail and they on me
trust me I can get 'em all
They say I stride like a model, curse like a bottle
Watch me as I hit the wall
And I make em say
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Tell your baby daddy he ain't holdin no weight
'Cause he got cake and no knife
Ain't nobody cuttin' so cut it out, cut it out
Alright
So you don't know my face now? (Got it)
Lookin' at me from the waist down (Crop it)
Said I'm a hard pill to swallow fella
But I can make you feel better
I got my hair in a ponytail and they on me
trust me I can get 'em all
They say I stride like a model
Curse like a bottle
Watch me as I hit the wall
And I make 'em say, hey
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Don't make me hit you with my - uh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook, hit it y'all
Said you got a lot of nerve
playn' with my feelings boy
Do you always speak before you think?
I-I-Lucky me I know the game
I'ma flip my hair then walk away
If you follow me it's on and poppin' (Is that right?)
'Cause I think you're gettin' outta pocket (Okay)
Stop it (Luda!)
'Fore you make me
Oh!
Before I make you too what girl you know you want it
You body's nice but eh you need some Luda on it
So find a matress so we can start tookin' on it movin' it
Baby 'cause tonight's the night for you to rock up on the mic
'Cause I rocks the mic (Right?)
It's Chris mind freak in the back of a Rolls
I know magic, poof, do away with ya clothes
Then come here and let Luda give that body a rub
'Cause damn lil mama you thick as a mug
Just how them southern boys like it
Hurry up and give me your punch I might spike it
Party in my? and yes you're in?
So we can make a wet scene
And win a Oscar all up in your best dreams
Girl I think you know you're driving me crazy
They jingling baby, go 'head baby
With two hams in you pants girl I think you's a crook
Let me touch what's up under that-
Don't make me hit you my pocketbook
(Aw you ain't gone do nothin')
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
(Go 'head and do it then)
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
(Luda!)