Luyện nghe bài hát Pocketbook

Don't make me hit you with my
Say it
Don't me hit you with my pocketbook
Check this out

Lookin' at my I bet you thinkin' 'bout it
Don't you know how I get down?
Take a baby, you ain't the only brother
to get up under my skirt now

Rockin' all your hot shit,
Thinkin' that God's gift to woman
More like a in my ear
Shoo fly don't me

I got my hair in a pony tail and on me
me I can get 'em off
They say I stride a model, curves like a bottle
me as I hit the wall and I make 'em say

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you my pocketbook
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
make me hit you with my pocketbook

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Da, da, da, da, don't me

Tell you baby, he ain't holding the weight
'Cause he got the cake and no
nobody cuttin' so cut it out, cut it out, alright

So you don't my face now, got it
at me from the waste down, stop it
Said I'mma pill to swallow, fella
But I can you feel better

I got my hair in a pony tail and on me
me I can get 'em off
They say I stride like a model, like a bottle
me as I hit the wall and I make 'em say

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you my pocketbook
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't me hit you with my

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Hey, hey, get it

Said you got a lot of nerve, with my feelin's boy
Do you speak before you think?
Lucky me, I the game, I'mma flip my hair and walk away
If you follow me it's on and
'Cause I think gettin outta pocket
Stop it 'fore you me

Before I you do what girl, you know you want it
Your body's nice, but eh you need some on it
So find a matress so we can start jukin' on it, on it
Baby 'cause the night
For you to rock up on the mic 'cause I the mic

It's Chris Mind Freak in the back of a
I know magic, poof, do away with clothes
Then come and let Luda give that body a rub
'Cause damn little mama you as a mug

Just how them southern boys it
up and get me a punch, I might spike it
Party in my Babs and yes your
So we can a wet scene
And win an Oscar, all up in your best

Girl, I think you know drivin' me crazy
They jinglin' baby, go 'head
With two hams in your pants I think you's a crook
Let me touch what's that
Don't me hit you with my pocketbook

Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh
Don't make me hit you my pocketbook