Panchi - Stretch Marks & Cigarette Burns lyrics

[Intro] Woo-han What Who han, Woo han What up n***as It's crazy Yo Panchi Call Sha Call Premo Tell them let's meet in the club Yo [Verse 1: Blaq Poet] I came in the club with a couple of goons We was already drunk, now we're smoking the [?] Little shorty on the stage, she was wilding, dancing Whole motherf**ing crowd screaming, chanting "Move something, shake something Break something, b**h" I was like "Oh sh**, what the f** they're saying?" But shorty don't care 'cause she had these n***as paying Had them n***as laying out all their bread Had them n***as standing on their motherf**ing head Had them n***as waiting on line for their turn n***as love stretch marks and cigarette burns [Hook: Blaq Poet (w/ scratches by DJ Premier)] "Move something, shake something Break something, b**h" I was like, "Oh sh**, what the f** they're saying?" Stretch marks and cigarette burns "Move something, shake something Break something, b**h" I was like ("Yo, what the f** are they yelling?") Stretch marks and cigarette burns [Verse 2: Panchi] Yo this is for my b**hes in the shelters who don't need shelter You're just doing that sh** for a crib And all my bad little b**hes, if your baby father hit you Stick that ice cold knife in his ribs And all my b**hes pimp the system, [?] tell your workers f** that, you gon' have more kids And you ain't have them 'cause you need them, but now, you got to feed them So you figure that your a** gonna strip In the club setting, n***as dancing, bra sweating As the ba** booms, more sweat consumes And you wonder how thousands can fit in a room The speakers is bumping 'til it damn near pop These hoes is dancing 'til they damn near drop But I sit back and observe the whole scenery And nonchalantly tell you what it mean to me The filer says no boots and jeans I'm in the back blowing trees, dipped in army fatigues Little b**h on my back, when will I learn Not to f** with stretch marks and cigarette burns [Sample] ("Yo, what the f** are they yelling?") [Hook] [Verse 3: Imani Montana] Got love b**hes, sliding down the pole b**hes Twelve to four b**hes, don't matter, you're my b**hes Stretch marks and cigarette burns, alright, b**hes Can't knock your grind, live your life, b**hes Get money, be the best at what you do co*ks**er want to judge, tell them, motherf** you You done mastered the art of this seduction sh** See homie came tonight but hopes he can f** your sh** [?] n***a [?] screaming we don't love them hoes Type to question why [?] dance to her pole But he f**ing with [?] but she buying him clothes Telling a** n***a, G's don't take you on the road In tune with the soul, can't tell me nothing Have a man [?] lick it up, fronting Who you think you fooling, look at you drooling Love what's she doing, what is she doing Top on the pole, thick, legs in a split Working her way down like she's riding your dick Now you want to lick every burn and stretch marks What else can I say, we the best, ma