Missy Elliott Gossip Folks (fatboy Slim Radio Remix) Lyrics

Gossip Folks (fatboy Slim Radio Remix) Lyrics

(featuring Ludacris)



[Missy]

When I rock up in the piece

I ain't gotta even speak

I'm a bad mama jama goddammit y'all people ain't gotta like me

How you studying these hoes

Need to talk what you know

And stop talking bout who I'm sticking and licking just mad it ain't yours

I know ya'll poor ya'll broke

Y'all job just hanging up coats

Step to me get burnt like toast

Y'all suckers adios amigos

Halves halves wholes wholes

I don't brag I mostly boast

From the VA to the LA coast

Izzy kizzy izzy oh



I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see

Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week

Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo

I know by the time I finish this line I'm a hear this on the radio



Musi ques, I sews on bews, I pues a twos on que zat

Pue zoo, My kizzer, Pous zigga ay zee



[Missy]

When I pull up in my whip

Y'all be like who that is

I'm driving, I'm gliding, I'm sliding

Y'all keep talking bout there she is

I'm gripping these curbs

Skurr, did ya heard

I love em, my feathers, my furs, ah

I fly like a bird

Chicken heads on the prowl

Who you trying fuck now

Naw you ain't getting loud

Better calm down for I smack your ass down

I need my drum bass high

Has to be my snare strings horns and

I need my Tim sound, right, left

Izzy kizzy looky here



I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see

Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week

Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo

I know by the time I finish this line I'm a hear this on the radio

I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see

I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see

I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see

Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week



[Ludacris]

Yeah, uh huh, okay

Once upon a time in College Park

Where they live life fast and they scared of dark

There was a little nigga by the name of Cris

Nobody paid him any mind, no one gave a shit

Knowing he could rap, no one lifted a hands

So he went about his business and devised a plan

Made a CD, then he hit the block

50 thousand sold, seven dollars a pop

Hold the phone, three years later

Stepped out the swamp, with ten and a half gators

Now all around the world on the microphone

Leaving the booth smelling like Burberry cologne

Still riding chrome

Got bitches in the kitchen, never home alone

And he's on the grind

Please let me know if he's on your mind

And respect you'll give me

Ludacris I live LOUD like Timmy

Uh, had to clear these rumors

I got a headache and it's not a tumor

Get up on my lap and get my head sucked tight

Sprayed so I never let the bed bugs bight

I'm hard to the core, core to the right

Drop down turn around pick a bale of cotton



I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see

Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week

Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo

I know by the time I finish this line I'm a hear this on the radio



I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see

Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week

Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some yo

I know by the time I finish this line I'm a hear this on the radio