"Get at Me" as written by Rondell Edwin Turner and Shamele Mickie....
[12 O'Clock (Sandman)]
Two On Da Road right here
(Uh-huh, something for the radio, nigga)
Two On The Road
Uh, Two On The Road

[Chorus: Sandman: x2]
When you see me at the party homey get at me
And don't be mad when your girl try and spit at me
'cause when the beat got
It ain't no limit to the things that we can do

[12 O'Clock]
I'm at the bar, Long Island Iced Tea
Double shot of Hennessey for this pretty piece
With pretty feet smelling like Victoria Sec'
I could see her bra and panties were pink
Looking Spanish or Greek, finest thing I seen all week
Moving with her cousin and niece
I'm moving with my mans Monk and P
Stand at the wall, long chrome 3-3-3
Pussy for free like ODB, high off the eves
Bitches looking like Pamela Lee
Butt-naked on their hands and knees
Roll up the trees, burn somethin' 'fore we leave
Give your friend your car keys, slide with me

[Shyheim]
Peace
Hey vagina, use my name Davey Crocket
I'm king of the wild frontier, your sex hostage
Mr. Lover-man, what's cooking good lookin?
Let's jump in the frying pan, fuck yo' man
He don't want it with us killas
With E-40 Skrilla, for real-a

[Doc Doom]
Bottle for the Wu years and I'ma hit the flow after a few beers
Just tell the DJ the Black Knights is up in here
Wu-Tang is in here, the whole Killa Bee Gang is in here
And ladies holler when we in here
Cause they know it's Big Pimping going on in here
And in the VIP, ho's take it off in here
So get at me 'cause I know you want to spit at me
And I'd be a fool to let that fat ass pass me

[Shyheim]
You want to ride in the 600 baby
With your head out the window like "Hey hey"
Tell everybody in the hood you my lady
We big up for life so you crazy

[Prodical]
This killer dog puffin green gandy, ready to sink through some panties
Caught some eye candy, sipping on Coke mixed with Remy
Yo Monk, shorty got a lot of junk in her trunk
Now she surfing through the crowd for our weed and skunk
A nigga 12, dropping treasures like the jewels of the Nile
Twenty-seven, man-child from the Isle of Shaolin
We sky Sushi bar, Meoshi par, finest cigars
And the ladies in the place want to know who we are
Gumah Oz Dubar, my hand all in her bra
So what's the deal ma'? Can me and my Clan Bar Mitzvah?
Call your girlfriends, after-party, house on the hill
Come and do real, she said "I'm burning heart off the pill"
Drinks for free, I got my own VIP
Two or three, or it can be just you and me
Let's get it on and popping, crack-a-latin with no debating
No time for the faking, baby girl what's shaking?

[Monk]
Catch Monk in the midst of party cracking, don't dance
But I boogie to the beat low key, I stay splashed
And drunk still drinking, popping major with the ho's, I'm grooving
With this fat bitch, she stuck with my slang and my dress code
I got close, whispered "What's up with the Bar Mitzvah?"
Then I grabbed her ass, she laughed with a porno look
And pussy popped her ass on rhythm with the beat
But passed, she with her man but her friends came two cars deep

[Chorus: x6]


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Get at Me" as written by Shamele Mickie Rondell Edwin Turner

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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