Can’t Stop Won’t Stop * Lyrics

Can’t Stop Won’t Stop * lyrics

* send corrections to menace4430@aol.com

Come on, yeah
[i’m comin]
Come on, yeah
[i’m comin]
Come on, yeah
[i’m comin]
Come on, yeah
[i’m comin]
(2x)

Stlyes:
Can’t stop, won’t stop
Everything drop like panties, hot like miami
Move like little black kid stealing candy
Barely seen, honnies call me barely cream
Real generals never fail eighteen
Would you believe, I know what’s up your sleeve
If you said in your last time, (? )
And thought he saw the devil, jay kissed his feet
You think not, as if
Sheek won’t bring it to you, give you asthmas
Is he rockin cashmiere?  y’all know we don’t pass there
Matter fact, I scoped out there last year
Hit him on the head said there ain’t no cash there
Stay home, styles about to hit tony rhomes
Puff out his own with this chick from rome
(? ), funny how I’m greedy, used to be needy
But now the sean-don keep the (? )

Chorus-puff daddy:
Too many people worried about what we got
Everything we drop will be hot
Puff daddy and the goodfellas don’t stop
Can’t stop, won’t stop
(2x)

Sheek:
Hey, yo it’s crazy we here now every chick want my baby
My career clear while your sh*t look hazy
Bang with us?  I don’t think so, we platinum plus
With no airplay so ain’t sh*t for us to discuss
But when we hit, you can’t understand how we did it
At home praticin tryin to learn how we spit it
Fourty-eight hours of old tea like nick nolte
Young but o-g’s at this rap sh*t nigga please
One hit for all of us to start eatin
And wild stack on three weeks on bowell leather beats
Our parents are sharp like cactuses
And you can tell by chips, we sleep on matresses
Dimes flooded out in the hidous
Shit you see in magazines, cut out we freak them hoes
Drop them clothes, double expose you in the lens
Now relax as we videotape you in the bed

(chorus 2x)

Jay:
If we talk about dollars, only thing I turn down is my collar
Pull out turn them around, if he reach make him holler
Who runnin the town?  the goodfellas
Puff is the godfather, dog, so why bother? 
With the third-person, you might catch me surfin
Money I be jerkin, my newborn be burpin
Can’t stop, won’t stop, I want respect
And I only bum heads with checks
In the suite with this honey from bangladesh
Pop a snapple, I (? ) lay on my chest
All I had to do was get it there, she doin the rest
Take a l to the head, then we listen to flex
Yes, the black hood, and I mack good
With hydro and chocolate mixed in backwood
Ask yourself, do you rap good or act good? 
Baby we ain’t gon’ stop, but you should

(chorus)