Lyric Song Who s That Girl: first single Uh
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yo They wanna know Who s that girl La
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la Can I turn you on by my word s spell Look into my eyes think I want you
can t tell Me I keep it sexy
daddy so I can t fail Keep it gangsta for the cowards so I give em hell Call me misfit
lips spit a gang of trash Wrist glist now cause I make a gang of cash Light glance
still street with the do rag Slang
spit game
change speech
how they do that Watch they mouths drop
watch the crowds pop up and act out Broads with the screw face
smash on and knock out Ain t changed game game around me
I run the game If I gotta keep it gritty so be it
I m supposed to change Like simple
dizzy broads ain t messin with my mental Natural born hustlin bitch check what I ve been through Got mine took it from you
and now you slot mine Exec to my own shit
dawg I ownin dot coms Who s that girl La
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yo I can understand why you re scared of Eve Thought I did it one way
ain t prepared for me Huh
mad cause an image I don t care to be Realness
real shit
spit reality Attitude rude
that s the Philly in I Need me in the game
I m the thrill in your life Breath of fresh air Little boys hang me on their wall
I grow em chest hair Why you listenin to other shit You go the best here Come on try your luck shorty
I got the rest scared Bet you anything you aint ready and you get left there Ain t known for frontin vouch for my behavior
Same way they get down I get down for this paper Sixteen lean from my pence so you can test her Still need to know who I am then cop the record Take it like a class on me and learn the lesson Bottom line my world
my way any questions Who s that girl La
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yo power moves is made everyday by this thorough bitch I mma get this bank anyway that I do this shit I was born to shine while most of y all was borderline bullshit Know exactly what I want from me
you cats is clueless
Dispose the flow through my hands like water Heat starts growing from my son or my daughter Eve want her own cash
fuck what you bought her He spend
you owe
that s what mommy taught her All ball is played
won t starve today Song after song I write so I get paid Thought I wasn t followin up with the second round Now bitch swallow it up while I shut it down Make em love me over again and over your name Betcha they get over your style and over your fame Why you lookin sad at me
I ain t the blame Back to plan B baby I can feel your pain Who s that girl La
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