LYRICS

Why you talkin shit for
Gotta whole lotta nerve
Gotta whole lotta whole lotta
Shit to observe
What you in it for
Not a damn thing poppin
When them things stay boppin
On the track stay joggin'
Dog I been this raw
You wanna pop off the lip
Wanna cop all them kicks
Wanna rock but you can't
Cause you did it all
On top of this shit
No option with this
don't stop just
Twist them joints
And stir up my coffee
They say some of us dot act proper
They say some of us are straight sloppy
Well some of these bitches got nothing to offer
But some backseat love
A backseat fuck, shhhhhit
Running around the beat like track meet cause
Tryna catch me up
Wanna pass me up
Wanna dumb it down givin' me the run around
Nah, nah
In tryna bond with you
Tryna make you really feel comfortable
Turn up on the Dilla dawg one won't do
And when you step up in crib
Take off them shoes
Yup yup, and young lady yeah you know better
A young gonna pulla muthafucka strings
Top notch original put that shit on everything, everything

(Don't blink I might just)
Over ya head,
And the shit might go over ya head, over ya head, over ya head
And the shit might go over ya head,
And the shit might go over ya head, over ya head, over ya head

(x3)
Now bounce, drop, move, shake
Bop, twerk, groove, break
(Don't blink I might just)

How could We hit em with the 1, 2
How bout I hit em with the 3, 4
Charles Bark in the park while I Son
All you caricatures
Big headed but y'all minature
Lyrically u soundin immature
I ain't high, I just live it up
Visionary, 3'eye
I ain't tryna say hi
I'm just tryna get by
Cause you run in place
Wanna be the one in race
Stupid you ain't tie your shoes
U ain't gettin what I'm givin then u out 3 strikes
In a minute blow the whistle
Game over boy, my game over board
Still I try to keep it underdog,
Woof woof,
Deuce deuce then I'm gone poof poof
I'm C L Smooth
My initials if u didn't have a clue, wake your ass up like a roster
U got a minute I got infinite
U on the run like an immigrant
U have fun but I'd rather get some Benjamin's
It's after one still runnin round gettin it
Bow down to the bun rockin' elephant
The medicine is kickin in, and I'm kickin in the door
While the telephone is ringin plus I'm screamin down the hall
If you're listening then bring your lame ass to the floor

And the shit might go over ya head, over ya head, over ya head
And the shit might go over ya head,
And the shit might go over ya head, over ya head, over ya head

(x3)
Now bounce, drop, move, shake
Bop, twerk, groove, break
(Don't blink, I might just)

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