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Correct The Yearn Lyrics
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Artists: L
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Lost Boyz
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Correct The Yearn
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Lyrics:
Intro: [whistling] Shorty!! Shorty!! Shorty c'mere baby girl! (I like what I see) This go out to erybody man, a little station identification And we call this one for all y'all, who be going to buy... Chorus: The cheebas, them liquors The condoms, hit the ass It's the cheebas, the liquors The condoms, that ass Verse one: mr. Cheeks Now now now Met this girl, just the other day When I was up, on rockaway She was in kennedy fried (word em up) A little kill's breast, and I said, "excuse me miss... Maybe we can go and jus chat. " "about what? " "about, about this about that." I bet I put somethin in yo mind To make you heel it up bring it back come rewind Now I'm, just a rap artist Not sayin that I'm the best not the smartest but But I come up wit things ya never seen Things you never heard of like money and the murder like Next thing you know we in the rest Drinkin liqour, puffin on the buddha sess I threw on me a rough rider I slid inside her Chorus: Wit my cheebas, my liquors My condoms, hit the ass I had the cheebas, them liquors The condoms, hit the ass We had the cheebas, the liquors The condoms, hit the ass We had the cheeba, the liquor The condom, the ass!! Verse two: freaky tah Don't be fuckin wit my shorty, sippin on her forty Or puffin on her blunt, 'cause she's no fuckin stunt True to the game, goes to school for her edu-ma-cation While I bounce around the nation From nation and back to new york I twist the cap, pop the cork And take a long walk to the court Buddha, I spark chill wit my crew Who it be mr. Cheeks when I sip my nigga brew And get in, you gets the fan understand Bouncin, we gets to buzzin forty ouncin Hit virginia, I get the shorty-shorty Hippin on the forty on the corner wanna bone In home or out on my own I get whatever hit her, and then get rid of her After I'm done with it, my man, he wanna get with it Then he hit it from da back, now my crew wanna hit it But me freaky tah, trip off and I creep Niggaz they be buggin, but don't ever peep my style My crew is buckwild We been in this game for awhile Chorus: Smokin cheebas, the liquors The condoms, the ass It's the cheebas, them liquors The condoms, the ass (repeat 3x) Verse three: mr. Cheeks Now before you run up in that Wear your mutha poke-pro-fa-lac Stick, before you run up in skinz Before you bone, run your mouth to yo mens Make sure that you protect yourself That shows that you respect yourself Now don't violate your skin and your balls You'll be making, the phone call See dr. Abraham or them condoms now You know that you best to be aware Don't go bustin up and nuttin in Let a nigga from the lost boyz tell ya somethin No man know he play he the fuckin game But aids ain't got no fuckin name All you chancy niggaz that's playin cute Don't jump, without a parachute Verse four: pete rock Yeah here we go as I shoot from the top of the key The lost boyz in the house with the capital p Grab a chair relax and pass the alize I'ma tell you a little somethin about this chick around my way She was a dime with a brown skin complexion She looked so good you'd think you wouldn't need protection Girlfriend was top choice selection... ... Around in every section They got twisted, she said no condom so he risked it Caught in the mix and now you sick kid Word is bond, I thought by now you learned your lesson Fucking around with no protection So emphasize this, stressin the point, and analyze this Don't get caught, with the virus It's the chocolate boy wonder with the lb fam Listen up, use your condom when your third leg stand [chorus fades]
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