], click click click, girl, pose for me, pose for me, come on and, pose for me, pose for me[yeah], my camera loves you girl, you are fashion, the lastest style on
Click, click, click Pose for me, pose for me Click, click, click Come on and pose for me, pose for me Click, click, click My camera loves you girl Click, click
right now And just hold it Click Click Click Pose for me Pose for me Pose for me Pose for me My camera loves you You are fashion The latest style on
Übersetzung: New Kids On The Block. Click Click Click.
me You know how slow the new Rolls Royce be The number one rapper, dippin low low In a compressor sippin mo-mo Spend a lotta cheddar, look My click couldn
bailin to stacks more green; Gods ain't tryin to be trapped on no block slangin no rocks like bean pies Brainstorm on the beginnin Wonder how s**t like
don't know why I'm even on this track Y'all niggas ain't even on my level I'm going to let my little homies Ride on yah bitch made ass Bad Boys bitches
kids of the block Step too close kid you might get shot Only one master's goin straight to the top One false move your whole game gets blocked Only one
younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on
grease, kids be diss-free Most of these labels can't handle this heat I love new twat, scrap ho's on a few blocks When my hate grows I let the tools pop
'" like my dick's in her ear or somethin' I put that on my momma, she put that on her kids He put that chrome on your dome and blowed ya fuckin' wig That
concepts This is rap with no rules Fuck being cool, old school or new school I'm supreme, I'm on the fat winning team A lot of clicks wanna dream, peep
a flick for four mill' What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill Never catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills Innovative rapper, rhyme in new
at bird shit Drop on the window pane, the oxygen is cocaine It drove lots of men to die with no name I been on boats, nut down throats, pee on bitches
Verse One: Raekwon the Chef] I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side Staying alive was no jive At second hands, moms bounced on old men
remember eatin' Kool-Aid and sunflower seeds (do it a) Jelly shoes, hair braided wit 1000 beads (let's do it again) Mama sittin' on the porch 'till the lights come on
