We Ain't Stoppin' (Feat. Hot Boys) - Big Tymers
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We Ain't Stoppin' (Feat. Hot Boys) Lyrics
Whoa, whoa, the Big Tymers, nigga
Who? Who? The Big Tymers, nigga
Huh? Get it rightBentley interior, I lay back on it
Every time a nigga see me, it's a Kodak moment
Now, I ain't the one to brag, nope
But I bought myself a Hummer, my brother a Jag, for sureI'm takin' all the hoes, and I'm makin' you mad, yeah
You violate my household, I'm bustin' your ass
Is you listenin'? Do you see my ice when it's glistenin'?
'Cause if you're with that baller blockin', niggas comin' up missin' thenI need a [unverified] to get right up in my new Prowler
And put her lips tight on this pipe to suck out the problems
Need a Rolex with princess cuts all at the bottom
Need a kit with twenty-inches on the car that I'm drivin'Went from dimes to quakes, to money like Bill Gates
Doin' a-hundred on interstates in Hummers on thirty-eight's
See, we are the CMB, my nigga
Fresh, Baby, Hot Boys, and Wheezy Whee, my nigga, what?Wherever it's poppin', we stoppin'
But if it ain't hot then, we not then
Wherever it's twurkin', we workin'
She got to be slurpin', for certainProject and hood rat bitch is who I like
A bitch that's 'bout ridin', and goin' on flights
What?I met this bitch in Cabrini Green, a nasty hoe
Liked that dick from the back and you could in her throat
A bitch that's 'bout hustlin' and smugglin' work
Head bustin' and thuggin' just like TurkA wild bitch off Grave Street doin' her thing
Big ass, big tits, and she loved eatin' ding-a-ling
I need a black hoe, black hoe, one with the braids in her head
Workin' with some ass that could give good headCan't forget about this bitch up in Philly on Richard Island
Freak-nasty bitch that's always swallowin'
Stickin' to the G-Code, Ree's, and Girbauds
Got hands and 'bout strappin', quick to beat a hoe
Oops, almost forgot about Tasha up in the watts
A hot girl for sure that stayed drop-me-like-it's-hotWherever it's poppin', we stoppin'
But if it ain't hot then, we not then
Wherever it's twurkin', we workin'
She got to be slurpin', that's for certainBitch, I'ma be stun'n until the day I go, what?
Bentley's and Hummers, and drop Di-a-blos, what?
Runnin' with niggas that don't love no hoe, what?
Platinum grill 'cause, bitch, I'm done with goldHey, now, you know it's Lil' Wheezy off the heezy
Believe me, whoa
Hot like pepper, slidin' out the Kompressor slow
Me and your wife, slut, don't slam my door
Cut on the lights, look how the damn watch glowHold up, Wayne, what
You know what, Wayne, whoa
I'ma get in this bitch and do donuts, manNow wait, Bubble
You gon' make me go buy a Grape Hummer
And put my name in diamonds on the license plate, cousinNow, peep me, slick
I got a hoe out the project that eat the dick
She a freaky bitchNigga, you know it's Iceberg, boy, straight off the block
With the number-one stunna, and we blazin' hot
What?Wherever it's poppin', we stoppin'
But if it ain't hot then, we not then
Wherever it's twurkin', we workin'
She got to be slurpin', for certainWherever it's poppin', we stoppin'
But if it ain't hot then, we not then
Wherever it's twurkin', we workin'
She got to be slurpin', that's for certain
Songwriters
THOMAS, BYRON O. / CARTER, DWAYNE / DORSEY, CHRISTOPHER NOEL / GRAY, TERIUS / VIRGIL, TAB / WILLIAMS, BRYANPublished by
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