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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: Missy Elliott f Ludacris - Gossip Folks (Fatboy Slim Radio Remix)

[Missy]
When I rock up in the piece
I ain`t gotta even speak
I`m a bad mama jama goddammit y`all people ain`t gotta like me
How you studying these hoes
Need to talk what you know
And stop talking bout who I`m sticking and licking just mad it ain`t yours
I know ya`ll poor ya`ll broke
Y`all job just hanging up coats
Step to me get burnt like toast
Y`all suckers adios amigos
Halves halves wholes wholes
I don`t brag I mostly boast
From the VA to the LA coast
Izzy kizzy izzy oh

I don`t go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week
Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo
I know by the time I finish this line I`m a hear this on the radio

Musi ques, I sews on bews, I pues a twos on que zat
Pue zoo, My kizzer, Pous zigga ay zee

[Missy]
When I pull up in my whip
Y`all be like who that is
I`m driving, I`m gliding, I`m sliding
Y`all keep talking bout there she is
I`m gripping these curbs
Skurr, did ya heard
I love em, my feathers, my furs, ah
I fly like a bird
Chicken heads on the prowl
Who you trying fuck now
Naw you ain`t getting loud
Better calm down for I smack your ass down
I need my drum bass high
Has to be my snare strings horns and
I need my Tim sound, right, left
Izzy kizzy looky here

I don`t go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week
Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo
I know by the time I finish this line I`m a hear this on the radio
I don`t go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
I don`t go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
I don`t go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week

[Ludacris]
Yeah, uh huh, okay
Once upon a time in College Park
Where they live life fast and they scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris
Nobody paid him any mind, no one gave a shit
Knowing he could rap, no one lifted a hands
So he went about his business and devised a plan
Made a CD, then he hit the block
50 thousand sold, seven dollars a pop
Hold the phone, three years later
Stepped out the swamp, with ten and a half gators
Now all around the world on the microphone
Leaving the booth smelling like Burberry cologne
Still riding chrome
Got bitches in the kitchen, never home alone
And he`s on the grind
Please let me know if he`s on your mind
And respect you`ll give me
Ludacris I live LOUD like Timmy
Uh, had to clear these rumors
I got a headache and it`s not a tumor
Get up on my lap and get my head sucked tight
Sprayed so I never let the bed bugs bight
I`m hard to the core, core to the right
Drop down turn around pick a bale of cotton

I don`t go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week
Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo
I know by the time I finish this line I`m a hear this on the radio

I don`t go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week
Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo
I know by the time I finish this line I`m a hear this on the radio

 

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