Kool Keith - Maxin In The Shade lyrics

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Kool Keith - Maxin In The Shade lyrics

Hey girl, you frontin on that phone That cellular phone ain't workin What's that? Pre-paid, from J&J And your voice mail is off, cause I called you So you're extravagant, think you all that There's some corn flakes in the kitchen and turkey sandwich on top of the 'fridgerator That's right girl, don't roll your eyes at me like a alligator Put your Chanel shades on, walk with your thong in your bu*t Runnin your fingers through your cheap raise(?) Look at your girlfriend with her hair weave fallin out On my phone, runnin up my bill Talkin to broke-a** drug dealer friends to Western Union you three dollars from Cancun You're now in the red with your real hair stickin from under your wig showin behind your head, with real, pimples on your face You can't disrespect me in my place; them cigarettes smell Lookin for NBA players to take you to eat and you don't even have gas Actin pretty you need to pull over in Taco Bell I seen your kind before with mice spittin pumpkin seeds in your living room floor I know your type.. I know your type Maxin in the shade - I know your type Maxin in the shade - I know your type Maxin in the shade - I know your type You can't even cook a hot dog or pour a gla** of milk You'd rather walk around with plastic coats over your head in the rain lookin for a coach bag and Moschino belt You need to see how McDonald's feel Stop lookin around like you 'Superfly' and Ron O'Neal I'ma let you know how beef and a quarter pound is real Now go get your autograph and take a picture with the Cheeseburglar Let him know how you got your hair done And you're movin like you're pregnant this month with your +Belly+ stickin out like movie and soundtrack You dress up with diamonds just to eat Don't even finish your plate complete When the bill come, you try to act like you can't see the receipt Walkin up the block with Vivica Fox type girlfriends Jockin a seventy-year-old man, in a mansion with a seventy-five Rolls Royce, that look like Alfred Hitchco*k Maybe he can afford your liposuction stretch marks and tax deduction The second verse is still introduction So you actin like a sad puppy lookin at me through the fish tanks like a guppy (Why you have to look at me so stupid like that?) Maxin in the shade - I know your type Maxin in the shade - I know your type Maxin in the shade - I know your type First of all I bought the food you didn't even say thank you Now put on your bibs and chew your ribs You got grease on your hand and your favorite skirt I'ma call your mom after you get off work so your head hurt You wasn't invited to the concert that's V.I.P. backstage Who's this? What you doin here? I'm ashamed of you, I'm bein straight I hate you, I'm not gonna face you I'ma take you to White Castle a**hole I don't wear platinum, I wear gold My maturity ability is laughin at you like comedy You need to sit down, pull out a Swanson TV dinner Peanut bu*ter and jelly'll fill up your belly Bread in the cabinet start grabbin it Kool-Aid and lemonade get comfortable under the shade and let the barbershop, give your bob wig a tight fade Maxin in the shade - I know your type Maxin in the shade - I know your type Maxin in the shade - I know your type Maxin in the shade You slept with the wrong man All seven of your big-head kids are ugly {*laughing*}