Nasty Boy Lyrics

Yeah, word I remember I met this one bitch
'Cause you know me I don't see how I'm the nasty motherfucker
I just thought I thought I'da did anything in the world (yeah?)
I meets this one bitch, I comes up in the spot, or whatever
The bitch got the candles lit or whatever, so
She tell me whatever she wanna get her freak on whatever
So I'm like whats up, whatchu wanna yaknahmsayin
I'm read to wear it out or whatever (kss)
The bitch told me she wanted me to shit on her!
Ya know shit I was like whatchu mean shit?
I mean I might shit on you after I, hit it I won't call you no more
Shit on you like that
She talkin' about no she want me to cock over her
And shit, on her stomach!
I said bitch what the, what the fuck??
What the fuck I'm sposed to do after I after I shit on her
I'm s'posed to hit that after that?
She's just wilding out so after I shits on the bitch right

Ya know I shit, after I shits on the bitch
The bitch, ya know, washed that shit off or whatever (Oh shit!)
Come on, yeah come on, yeah
Come on, yeah come on, yeah
Come on, yeah come on, yeah
Come on, yeah come on, yeah
Come on, yeah come on, yeah
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Representin' on the freaky freaky
Fuck em all day fuck em all night
We don't love these hoes
Uh, I go, on and on and on and
Don't take them to the crib unless they bonin'
Easy, call em on the phone and
Platinum Chanel cologne and
I stay, dressed, to impress
Spark these bitches interest
Sex is all I expect
If they watch TV in the Lex, they know
They know, quarter past fo'
Left the club tipsy, say no mo'
Except how I'm gettin' home, tomorrow
Caesar drop you off when he see his P.O., uh
Back of my mind I hope she swallow (uh-huh)
Man She split a drink on my cream Wallows
Reach the gate, hungry just ate
Riffin', she got to be to work by eight
This must mean she ain't tryin' to wait
Conversate, sex on the first date I state
"You know what you do to me"
She starts off, "well I don't usually"
Then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt
Step out, show me what you all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aow!
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don't stop, until I squirt
Jeans skirt butt-naked it all work
[Chorus]
I remember we, went to Tennessee
Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone
Bitch named Symone
Screamin', she feenin', for the semen
Me bein, the man that I am
Took it to her condo, pronto
Half Indian, I called her Tonto
Roll the chron'chron' in the dark pronto
Few puffs, eyes got low
And off to the bedroom we go (mm)
Sex is drama, head to trauma
Rip pajamas, I'ma stay 'til tomorrow
Satisfyin' all my needs twice
With the whipped cream, handcuffs and ice
The bitch is nice, word is bond
Can't wait to put my niggas on, what, what?
[Chorus]
Ladies, my Mercedes
Hold fo' in the back, two if your fat
Keep a gat, cause cats, try to test me
They just fans like DeNiro, Wesley
Let's see, the bitch I'm waitin on
Cartier jeans look like they painted on
Ask thee, leave it up to me
Lay her on back ever so gently
She like the way the dough fold up, Rolls roll up
Cristal just throw up, bitch grow up
Hold up, there's DeGenero
Dripped out, iceberg apparel
Intro goes without speaking
Call me Cease cause I keep em, we can go freakin
All weekend, so, roll in
Ain't it good that my Lex keeps foldin? Uhh
[Chorus]
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written by Combs, Sean / Wallace, Christopher / Jordan, Steven A
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.