Slap! Slap! Slap! (featuring Da Brat & Jade) (LP Version)

Something you can dance to
Ooh, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah

Me and my clique
Run through the gutters, breakin' down shutters
As the beats go, dun-dun-dun-dutta
Ain't nothing better than these flavor buttas
It's like freakin' with your lovers tryna bust his rubba
Have him, have him undercover like he thought he never

How the hell a bitch like me become so clever?
Y'all wack MC's, y'all never, never
Talkin' hard as a cock, but as light as a feather
Y'all suspect hoes, y'all suspect hoes
Takin' off y'all clothes, y'all reject hoes
Y'all feel the rhythm, I'm 'bout to kill 'em

Slap! Slap! Slap!
Right across your melon, easy
Nigga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy

Y'all little (uh-huh)
Tryna act bigger, don't you get the picture? (Uh-huh)
Every freakin' year I come with something sicker (sicker)
Fans takin' flicks, wanna get my picture (uh-huh)
Freaks only speak, "Do you know Jigga?" (uh-huh)

Strange motherf- tryna be my nigga (uh-huh)
Turned your man to an ass-licker (uh)
Cheatin' ass men, these cheatin' ass men (uh)
Time to stop gamin' and stay the f- in (uh)
You feel the rhythm, I'm 'bout to kill 'em

Smack! Smack! Smack!
Right across your melon, pronto
Huh, I said, "Smack! Smack! Smack!"
Right across your melon, pronto (uh)

You don't wanna get smacked right quick
Wit' a upper cut, tight fist
I don't give a fuck if you don't like this
Still get paid to bust the right shit
Still get paid when I hop on the dick
Not a prostitute, I gotta a lot of loot
But if you knock the boots, at least cop the coupe
What I'm s'posed to do? Starve for you?
This ain't sparkle nigga, I can't crawl for you
That's impossible

I make the rules, I pay the dues
I wear the pants
Bought the shoes, they Prada too
Fuck with me, you lose
Step to me and get bruised
Your chances are not few, they none

So what I'm bitchy?
Roll a fat blunt wit' Missy in the front wit' me
Tim' hit me, ow, with the bang to the boogie the beat
Burnin' 'em wit the heat
It don't concern me, when niggas talk shit
They just wanna learn me
When they see me, I permanently damage they shit internally
And slap, slap, slap 'em right across the melon (haha)

Nigga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy (easy)

I'm the M-S-J-A-D-E
Toes and lows, bling like I'm B.G
I don't need you niggas help, shit, I write my own
Gimme a beat and a motherfuckin' microphone
Picture this shit, me, Missy and Timbaland
Was 'bout to take it to the streets, but the chicken ran
Oh shit, it's gettin' kinda hot in here
Oh shit, make niggas stop and stare

Talk dirty, rock-a-bye a birdy
Smack the shit out of Clyde 'cause Bonnie should've paid me
Get old heads for they checks that sign right
And I get lil' boys for they dough on prom night
'Cause I do my thing, knots in a pocket
Smack, smack, smack
All up in your noggin, early
I said, smack, smack, smack
All up in your noggin

Nigga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy



Credits
Writer(s): Shawntae Harris, Missy Elliott, Timothy Mosley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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