Soundboy - Ms. Martin lyrics

Published

0 536 0

Soundboy - Ms. Martin lyrics

[Intro: Big Pun] Yeah, sometimes you gotta fool 'em Sometimes you gotta send a woman to do a man's job, nahmean In this case, my girl hit like a grown motherf**in' man Y'all n***as better lay low Catch you where it hurt, nawmean Blow your balls off n***a [Refrain: Big Pun] Where my girl at, quick to bust the mack, better believe that She always got my back, n***a twirl that About to blaze a sack, where the weed at She don't know how to act, cause that's my girl black With that monster rap, better believe that You know the Bronx is back, she represent that Cause Terror Squad got her back, some say heed that My n***as love to scrap [Verse 1: Remi Martin] I inhale the deepest, co*k back and bust rhymes at your speakers I'm troubled, shoot out the air bubbles in your sneakers The type to cop a Range along with all the features Then take the back streets to avoid the leeches A pregnant b**h talk sh**, I'mma destroy her fetus Her dead baby popped this p**y, and his boys can't beat us Straight strong armin', bombardin', and bogardin' Remi don't write her own rhymes, n***a, I beg your pardon It's Ms. Martin I done broke night in the studio writin' While fraud broads don't get no publishin, still be bitin' They k** me lyin, like they the ones doin the scribin' When you can hear the ghostwriter, all up in they rhymin' I flows like water, got this drizzle with little C Catch me with Pun eatin Skittles in the middle of Little Italy Y'all don't know diddly, I spit hot and drop sh** Every time I kick a rhyme, Pun I burn my lip Take another pull, bust another shot, y'all can't stop me Come through in a jail suit, and the new Beef 'n' Broccolis Doin it, If I'm havin a good time and you ruin it I seen a nice casket that'll look good with you in it New improved sh**, the year start with a two sh** Next millenium, sell a million, clue sh** Exclusive, to tell the truth, y'all useless Cause I'm a dime that could rhyme you still on the deuce list [Refrain] [Verse 2: Remy Ma] Remi Martin, dash, reminisce, slash Remi, cash like a check in a stash Me without rhymes is like a flynt with no flash Stripper with no a**, car with no gas Tryna go fast, I love to hear the guns go blast I love the sounds of the shells fallin' down Love to smoke weed, stay blowin' trees, f** liquor When sh** get thick, I love to hear my b**hes raise his clique up You sick, but I'm sicker, plus our guns is bigger If you really wanna k** us, do it n***a pull the trigga How you figure, you could really come and take what's mine And all I gotta do is send a little letter to Rah He'll send the troops out, my brother don't hesitate to pull a tool out And I'm his little sis, so he taught me the same sh** Quick to flip, but your name should be prickless Cause every time you open your mouth, you s**in' my dick Talkin sh**, as if you a soldier n***a When you a no cash, low cla**, doja n***a Y'all rock rocks, we bling bling boulders n***a Look over your shoulder I'm in the Rover, it's over n***a Inhale, co*k back and bust, just because I know none of y'all busters is touchin' us I got the thoroughest thugs and, baby reminisces That don't give a f**, with a aim that never misses Hugs and kisses never, just slugs and stiches Thugs and b**hes forever, check the mugshot pictures f** the weather, I still got my tan Timbs on Just copped the pink mink, and winter been gone I been on this thug sh** y'all can't seem to f** wit My sh** is hot dogs, to top it off, still spittin' mustard No fair, cause I don't care I go to war wit a musket Just give me some Oreos, a jar of dro and two dutches Cause Pun be the nicest motherf**er on the market Now he got the nicest b**h, what, Remi Martin [Refrain]