Various Artists - Put Your Hands Up lyrics

{We about to set this motherf**er off in here tonight!} {It be like da, da, da-da-da, da} {This that real sh** dawg, real sh** dawg.. c'mon, c'mon, come} {What you say?} Mr. Smith {n***a, what you say?} I said my name is Mr. Smith {Yo, I want you to state the business} {You know what I want y'all to do?} Do your thing, do your thing, uhh [Chorus] {I said put your hands in the motherf**in air - where?} {Put your hands in the motherf**in air} {I know you like hoes} Yes {I know you got cars} Yes {I know you spit bars} Yes {I know you like stars} {But put your hands in the motherf**in air - you hear me?} {Put your hands in the motherf**in air - LADIES} {I know your nails done} Yes {I know your hair done} Yes {I know your toes done} Yes {I know you look good - b**h} {But put your hands in the motherf**in air - right} {Put your hands in the motherf**in air - c'mon, c'mon} {b*tch!} Uhh {b*tch!} Uhh uhh {b*tch!} Uhh {b*tch!} Uhh uhh [LL Cool J] Papi way too pimply to live this fast life simply Please squeeze at them twin armored Bentleys, I love envy Evidently, the pesos made 'em resent me Cause I clown on 'em, pull they broad gently, leave the bar empty I pimp Benzoes, you smell cherry air freshener Leather and indo, I cruise slow spit slick lingo You might mingle with more stars than Ringo On the beach in Santo Domingo lightin trees with singles But I'm a mandingo I make your guts tingle 'til your doorknockers jingle, stack chips like Pringles Ball like the Bengals, spread love like Kris Kringle Get paid off the single, let them dollars co-mingle Baby, baby, deep dish is chrome, navy Gray interior you feel inferior, it's crazy It's over baby your vision's hazy they plantin daisies You tried to play me but couldn't fade me that's why they pay me [Chorus] w/ minor variations [LL Cool J] Since I dropped "I'm Bad" I've been in Jags with nickle bags Hoes I had give better blows than Felix Trinidad One I had flew her Benz in from Baghdad With personalized tags, chrome mags and Prada bags I refused to stab, now she cryin in the rehab Wishin while reminiscin about all the sessions we had You knew all the positions to keep me on a mission Put the Playstation 2 in your Limited Expedition You're the mami I kept dipped, slept wit, crept wit Once you got needy and greedy sweetie I flipped like a brick Sharin my oochie spendin my chips Like I'm up in the Bricks politickin for new flicks On the FreakNik tip, grabbin your phattie on the 6 I ain't faded by them hips I split, just like Xzibit from Tha Liks (X) I got major bread to break Recipes for cake, keys to V's and estates, I'm straight [Chorus] w/ minor variations [LL Cool J] Ride.. aww yeah, that's crazy E Mr. New York Knicks, B. Daltry Violators, "Rock the Bells" T Rhone, get money, Markee, we doin this {Violator, Violator 2, 2, we out - freeze!}