Me and my clique
Run through the gutter breaking down shutter
As the beat goes, dun dun dun duna
Ain't nothing better than these favorite butters
It's like freaking with your lover trying bust his rubba
Have him have him undercover like he thought he never
How the hell a bitch like me become so celva
Y'all wack MC's, y'all never never
Talking hard as a cock but is light as a feather
Y'all suspect hoe's y'all suspect hoe's
Taking off your clothe y'all reject hoe's
Fell the rhythm, I'm bout to kill em

[Chorus] Missy (Timbaland)
Right across your melon, easy

Right across your melon, easy)

Y'all lil'
Trying act bigga don't y'all get the picture
Every freaking year I come wit something sicka
Fan's taking flick's want to get my picture
Freak's only speak ?Do you know Jigga?
Strange motherfucker's want to be my nigga
Turn your man to a ass-licker
Cheating ass men means, cheating as men
Time to stop gamin and stay the fuck in
Fell the rhythm, I'm bout to kill em

[Chorus] Missy (Timbaland)
Right across your melon, pronto

(I said,Slap!Slap!Slap!
Right across your melon, pronto)

[Verse 3: Da Brat]
You don't want to get smacked right quick
Wit a upper cut like this
I don't give a fuck if you don't like this
Still get paid to bust the right shit
Still get paid to hope on the dick
I'm a prostitute, I gotta a lot of loot
But if you knock the boots,but at lease cop the coup
What I'm post to do, starve for you
This ain't ?, I can't crawl for you
That's impossible
I make the rule
I pay the dues
I wear the pants
Bought the shoes, they Prada too
Fuck wit me you lose
Step to me and get bruised
Your chances are not few, they none
So what I'm bitchy
Roll a phat blunt wit Missy
In the front wit me
Tim hit ahh, wit the bang to the boggada beat
Burning em wit the heat
It don't conser me, when nigga talk shit
They just want to learn me
When they see me,I permanently
Damage they shit internally
And Slap!Slap!
Slap! em right across the melon

Right across your melon, easy

I'm the M-S-J-A-D-E
Toes and lows , bling like I'm B.G.
I don't know nigga help, shit, I write my own
Just gimme a beat and a motherfucking microphone
Picture this shit me Missy and Timbaland
We bout to take it to the streets, but they chicken ran
Oh Shit, It's getting kinda hot in here
Oh Shit, Make niggas stop and stare
Talk dirty, rock-a-bye a birdy
Smack the shit out the Clyde
Cause Bonnie should have pay me
Get old heads for they checks that sign right
And I get lil' boys for they doe on prom night
Cause I do my thing, knots in a pocket
All up in your knogen, early
I said,Slap!Slap!Slap!
All up in your knogen

Nigga, slap! Slap! Slap!
Right across your melon, easy

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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