I Lyrics by Petey Pablo

I Lyrics

    [petey]
    Man holla at ya dog
    Petey petey hey yall hey yall
    Carolina bird dog, still got my shirt off
    Still reppin' for convicts in sing-sing to burgaw
    Still rockin' with t-t-timbaland uh-uh uh-uh
    I got a different role, different stroll
    Impose, every nigga in here tryin' best to fuck with petey hoes
    I got em by the boat load, dark skin to pink-toes
    Li'l bitty to big hoe, nineteen to forty-fo'
    I got some 1965 pantyhose
    Still in the plastic bag now tell me i ain't a macaroni
    Jerome jerome to don corleone
    Petey petey the pussy beater
    I suck em, fuck em, send em home
    I gets my thug on, weekends
    I get me club on, we in
    So many hotels boy i ought to buy my own
    Petey-ott, petey swiss, petey inn, petey i (petey i)
    Man we did it again

    [chorus]
    I i i i i i i i i i i i
    Got them girls
    Got them thangs
    Got them guns
    Got them stunts uh, i said
    I i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i
    Got them girls
    Got them thangs
    Got them guns
    Got them stunts uh, i said
    I i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i
    Got them girls
    Got them thangs
    Got them stunts uh, i said
    I i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i
    Got them girls
    Got them thangs
    Got them guns
    Got them stunts uh,

    [petey]
    P-p-pardon me dog
    Its the gitchie from the gitchie bar
    Its really a tittie bar but i ain't got no license for it
    I got the what they want
    Plenty h, plenty o
    Plenty guns, plenty bows
    Muthafucka chew ya road
    You ain't never seen this before
    But when this shit drop, all she wrote
    International playa (yay ah)
    D-d-deah ya go
    All they want is that timbaland and petey pablo
    Now watch me ball, da-dunna-dunna
    Rims spinnin', 20's on all the cars, da-dunna-dunna
    Every time we hit em they different broads, da-dunna-dunna
    Now yall ain't ready
    I'm the jumping in the jumping jack flash
    You don't hear the way ya disc jumpin' across the track
    Nigga i'm a jumpin' ass
    Fist stomp i know you mad
    But ain't too much you can do bout that
    Cause i'll make em stop the track
    Tighten my belt and whoop y'all ass
    Y'all niggas gon' understand why niggas don't wanna drop shit this year
    Five and five equals ten petey pab timbaland is all it is

    [chorus]

    [petey]
    I'm the quicker picker-upper
    Crazy soda can crusher
    River, rock path, mobile home
    Country muthafucka
    Rep the dirty like a car commercial
    You ain't heard it pitchin
    Like the smell in the pasture, i'm the cacky-lacky shit
    Tr-tr-trash talkin' som'bitch
    Trust me man i ain't the one to get mad at
    Petey pab got a bag of vats
    And a gat if it come to that
    So nigga-nigga don't act like that, playin'
    Get a nigga smacked like that, i'm sayin'
    Get a nigga wig pushed back, damn
    Timbaland where ya at

    [timbaland]
    In a 18-wheeler blowin' my horn-horn
    Granddad in the field pickin beans and corn-corn
    Mama never saw that a star was born-born
    Mama said star go mow that lawn-lawn
    I said its hot as hell a nigga need some lemonade
    Bump it its 2000 a nigga needs some minute maid
    Go head and act up get cut with this switch blade
    Nigga you better pay attention what the hook say

    [chorus]

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