357 - J Bigga

You got me rock solid fondling my 357

So I’m gon hit your tonsils with my blanco machete

Baby, grip on the handle of my 357

I’m gon split you up the middle with my blanco machete

She dancin', your into it

She’s baking me loot cakes, mommy

Look at that scrub a dub, a dub, dub, dub

That’s the kind of thing J Bigga loves

Got every man into tippin'

On the dance floor stripin'

Rub the wax on (Yeah)

You got me rock solid fondling my 357

So I’m gon hit your tonsils with my blanco machete

Baby, grip on the handle of my 357

I’m gon split you up the middle with my blanco machete

Hand in hand

She’s lovin' it, I’m touchin' it

She stuck it in heave ho

She’s yankin' it, I’m smackin' it

And spankin' it

That’s my demand

Just keep it on the down lo mommy both hands

From the record shop to the bus stop on the sack of it

You got me rock solid fondling my 357

So I’m gon hit your tonsils with my blanco machete

Baby, grip on the handle of my 357

I’m gon split you up the middle with my blanco machete

You got somethin' special

Somethin' no one else got

You got me for tonight

But here comes Candy (Ow)

On the caller ID

She tastes like honey

Bring the Supra’s

Bring the HI-8's

Just you and the two of us and the tapes (Yeah)

You got me rock solid fondling my 357

So I’m gon hit your tonsils with my blanco machete

Baby, grip on the handle of my 357

I’m gon split you up the middle with my blanco machete

Bounce, bounce, bounce

I wanna see you bounce

Shake it, shake it, shake it up

And down, down, down (OK, Papi)

You got a lovely bunch of coconuts

Uh, what, what, what, what, what

Slide to the left, let me see your Na Na Na

Let it out, real loud just like this (Uh, hu, uh, hu, uh, hu)

You got me rock solid fondling my 357

So I’m gon hit your tonsils with my blanco machete

Baby, grip on the handle of my 357

I’m gon split you up the middle with my blanco machete

I’m through with you if you ain’t makin' it wobble

So sad, see ya later

Unless you can bounce, bounce, bounce (Aw, yeah)

Get to steppin', baby

The motor mouth that you yappin' is making me emotional

I fit the whole sack in your capacity is commendable

You got me rock solid fondling my 357

So I’m gon hit your tonsils with my blanco machete

Baby, grip on the handle of my 357

I’m gon split you up the middle with my blanco machete