J-zone - You Got Mail lyrics

{AOL sample stutters and slows down: "Y-y-y-y-y-y-you've got mail!"} [C.T.] Bim bim [Zone] Oh damn! [C.T.] Ha ha [Zone] This beat sound like some pimp sh** [Zone] Yo Celph, you made this beat?! [C.T.] Damn straight [Zone] How come you didn't tell me you could make sh** like this man? [C.T.] Oh you ain't know? [C.T.] I got some sh** for these hoes [Celph Titled] This b**h better whip out a credit card to pay for this dinner It's her birthday and I ain't got NUTTIN to give her Except this dick and directions to the front door Try to take my wallet and I'm lettin the gun pour I'm from Florida where them co*kroaches be runnin rampant Yes I'm the Dirty South Lieutenant, motherf**er god damnit You want money I said no, act up and you dead ho You wanna slurp? Call me on my cell that's my head-phone (b**h) f** chickenheads in the morning, give 'em the early bird special And this relationship ain't goin to the next level (nope!) Talk back and a b**h'll fall flat Cause I'm the type to beat a broad with a wiffleball bat Throw a bag over an ugly b**h before I let my co*k skeet That's what I call disguisin the Hump, like I was Shock G (hahaha) Your idea of eating out, is clit lips Mine is doggy bags and quick trips to Popeye's for biscuits b*tch! [Hook: Boss Hog Barbarians] We just ballin gettin fetti everyday on the grind The postman got mail for me Cause we all about our scratch, never savin a batch - b**h The postman got mail for me Only fur coats and gold chains, pimpin these hoes mayne Hogs up, hoes down, game recognize game The postman got mail for me, b**h The postman got mail for me [J-Zone] J-Zone as a kid I was chubby, heh, as I got older I got skinny Only thing that ain't changed I'm still ugly But a b**h'll still love me (that's right) even though I ain't pretty She be like, "His dick is still chubby!" That b**h bought me a rugby when my mink was in the shop Don't kiss or hug me, wash my dick in the sink and I hop We call your girl Triple P Paulette (why?) Take her to Popeye's, the parking lot, and Port Authority and then jet Go to dinner? Not today, we just ran a train on her And it bang louder than the A in Far Rockaway I still live with my grandmoms and don't have a job; it's frightenin Cause all you punks wanna be just like him I'm a loser and a herb in every sense of the word But I don't give a fu*k I'll still get wit'cho bird Then I stuff her and roast her like it's late November Then I duck that broke ho cause her friend looks better Ya b*tch! [Hook] [J-Zone] Celph Titled made a pimped out beat for me to rock And turn my nose up to broke s*uts on my co*k "Yo no tengo hay dinero," you better change the subject You speakin Broken-ese and we from Cut-a-Check Republic South Jamaica Queens to Tampa Our presence felt, every summer like cancers We eat collard greens for breakfast And keep sh** greasy like Soul Train scramble board contestants [Celph Titled] Me and your girl we ain't talkin much but when we f** I'm playin greatest hits from Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch Blow a b**h to pieces, strap grenades on her back Now the way I'm gettin a**, it just falls in my lap I'm a +Midnight Marauder+, stick a Q-Tip in your p**y That's my +Low End Theory+, I'm at the player's ball yearly No you ain't never been inside (nope) and I'mma get the Mexicans To f** up Xzibit again if he don't Pimp My Ride [Hook] [J-Zone] Hey yo, I got one question man How come y'all sh** don't sound like this? I mean, I'm sayin This our.. I see you over there hatin man f** you man This sh** is, yo Celph this sh** Yo Celph you a beast for this, GOD DAMN! Yo man I don't understand man wha**up wha**up with these rappers That ain't got no f**in ba** in they sh** man Why why is that You rappers is f**in allergic to ba** man I'm sick of hearin beats that ain't got no ba** man This that Boss Hog sh** man Type of sh** to blow your Alpines man You don't know nuttin about this man, God damn That's the sh** you make that ugly gorilla face to man But with me it comes easy I'm an ugly n***a But you know what, I don't give a f** Cause I got ba** in my sh** Yo Celph you got ba** in this motherf**in beat man This sh** sound evil, OH MY GOD~! This is Boss Hog, stop bein jealous man We make it look TOO EASY Ay b**h, pa** my Malibu and shut the f** up Don't put no ice cubes in my sh** Did I tell you, did I tell you I wanted Coke in my Malibu? Straight, I don't I don't mix, Coke and soda and all that sh** with my Give me my sh** straight This is Boss Hog man This ain't no Cosmopolitans man What part of the game is that? Yo Celph let's get out of here and go count some more money man [Samples to close] We take a b**h up to snow and make her get out b**h get out! (In a G-string) Knahmsayin? If we like the ho, here take a shot of Hennessy