The Candy Lady's Crib...

Bitches know the planes got it Bitches know the planes got it Bitches know the planes got it And where haven't haven't we uhn Vinnie Johnston get in the game, lay put up points quick microwave Industry coruption they tryin to point shaves Dummie down, why, when my audience is just as smart as I If you saw me, told somebody I bet they thought you were lying Fly where never in the space I'm in Never roll round corners that I've been High driving impalla slams, sparks flickin, trippin, scrapin the off ban F*ck it nothin of it my mechanic is the man, and them Hit em on the jack, the part replace that, asap that's that mothaf*cker Like a deffintion, O.GS watch me I'm a flow right out the television New aero bills reverse sitchin I'll I will re-invent the wheel Prerequisite, intellagence plus sexiness canidate to be a jet miss Queen for a day put cha on the foor of the mardi gras parade High and she smiling wave Brush up on it, get the rust off your moves my lil poney Which ya fine ass cold bottle and my grape cool aid and my wine glass Smokin amsterdam green with my fresh blue number 9's And my red headed honey from burmease Lip stick smears, pass port stamps, eyes simease cat lady the trance Shineing in my Marijuana trance Bull shit still waiti on me when I get back Deal with it don't run Square it up burn down another one You goin to the candy ladys crib wontcha bring me somthin Yea, yea, yea, and f*ck them frontin' hoes, we don't think about em'