Petey Pablo - Baby Bubba lyrics

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Petey Pablo - Baby Bubba lyrics

(Pop a Dom boo, what, c'mon) [Petey Pablo] It's the dippy dippy don now you heard that Let's take you back, where the original Tim the bird at? I got sh** here to make you down on twelve-pack Call Rudy, tell him hook us up a twenty sack C'mon c'mon c'mon, we ballin y'all Where my cats think you feel me at? Alla y'all, and when we earn that They finally let the dish and the pan Then I start with some cash Let me get to Virginia (V-A) link up with Timbaland Now I'm bustin they a** Now they callin me The Incredible Man I'mma sh** it sick like YEAHHH And there is one thing to understand Y'all know what it is and Petey is just what I am Spit what I spit cause I don't give a damn Spin like just like y'all spin at the mall in blue drawers On some du-rag, it's 'bout to be the all that is New broad, new day, new cars, new motherf**in deal Heyyyyyy [Hook: Petey Pablo] Heyyyyyyyyyy baby bubba If y'all feel it let me hear you say Heyyyyyyyyyy baby bubba We lost the music selector Heyyyyyyyyyy baby bubba If y'all feel it let me hear you say Heyyyeyyyeyyyyy baby bubba Well he caught me in the van, the gun chat lean fah-ward [Timbaland] Check me out in my black Trans-Am dippin on that man, who that be? TIM-BA-land, now haters wanna get at me Just because we three brothers dippin in the FLY RIDE He don't care though, n***a we just three FLY GUYS All up in your local mall pickin all your local broads HOLLA - if you wanna get into a local brawl We the in-timidators, y'all in-timidated By our bling bling ring ring, and I can't debate it LOWRIDERS (bzz bzzt) hittin on switches As we PASS BY YA (bzz bzzt) in sun fire - c'mon! What y'all need to do is throw that sh** up, sh** up For the cool amigos with Tequila in the gut What y'all know about them Southern girls with them big bu*ts? What y'all know about them buckshots bustin from a truck? Yeah, yeah - that's that Southern hospitality The come of the me, the come of the Pete The come of the 'goo, the come of the G [Hook] [Magoo] Mag spit it 'til I die f**er You wit your label kissin a** like a damn s**er Meanwhile, Mag in Virginia in some house shoes, watchin the news Do my album when I'm ready, tell my label to sue If I got it I'mma get 'em, it's cornered and sell some (?) From N-Y to floater while I'm humpin your daughter Stayin in the French quarter and listen to Juvenile I like that South sh**, all my n***as is wild You gotta come up with a new plan, I'm sayin man South boys ain't f**in playin - check them This week got OutKast and No Limit, and Eightball Scarface, Ludacris, and Goodie Mob, UHH We do it country cause we proud of this sh** All those that wanna hate on hip-hop can eat a dick I ain't a thug and I ain't tryna be They tryna take my love man and it bothered me [Hook] - repeat 2X