| To all the ladies in the place with style and grace Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin But I just can't quit Cause one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's C-notes by the layers, true fuckin players Jump in the Rover and come over tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree Chorus: [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee Verse Two: Straight up honey really I'm askin Most of these niggaz think they be mackin but they be actin Who they attractin with that line, "What's your name what's your sign" Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind And ask what your interests are, who you be with Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial You gon' be here for a while ... |
