Текст песни Ms. Martin - Big Pun feat. Remy Martin
Yeah,
sometimes
you
gotta
fool
'em
Sometimes
you
gotta
send
a
woman
to
do
a
man's
job,
nahmean
In
this
case,
my
girl
hit
like
a
grown
motherfuckin'
man
Y'all
niggas
better
lay
low
Catch
you
where
it
hurt,
nawmean
Blow
your
balls
off
nigga
Where
my
girl
at,
quick
to
bust
the
mack,
better
believe
that
She
always
got
my
back,
nigga
twirl
that
About
to
blaze
a
sack,
where
the
weed
at
She
don't
know
how
to
act,
cause
that's
my
girl
black
With
that
monster
rap,
better
believe
that
You
know
the
Bronx
is
back,
she
represent
that
Cause
Terror
Squad
got
her
back,
some
say
heed
that
My
niggas
love
to
scrap
I
inhale
the
deepest,
cock
back
and
bust
rhymes
at
your
speakers
I'm
troubled,
shoot
out
the
air
bubbles
in
your
sneakers
The
type
to
cop
a
Range
along
with
all
the
features
Then
take
the
back
streets
to
avoid
the
leeches
A
pregnant
bitch
talk
shit,
I'mma
destroy
her
fetus
Her
dead
baby
popped
this
pussy,
and
his
boys
can't
beat
us
Straight
strong
armin',
bombardin',
and
bogardin'
Remi
don't
write
her
own
rhymes,
nigga,
I
beg
your
pardon
It's
Ms.
Martin
I
done
broke
night
in
the
studio
writin'
While
fraud
broads
don't
get
no
publishin,
still
be
bitin'
They
kill
me
lyin,
like
they
the
ones
doin
the
scribin'
When
you
can
hear
the
ghostwriter,
all
up
in
they
rhymin'
I
flows
like
water,
got
this
drizzle
with
little
C
Catch
me
with
Pun
eatin
Skittles
in
the
middle
of
Little
Italy
Y'all
don't
know
diddly,
I
spit
hot
and
drop
shit
Every
time
I
kick
a
rhyme,
Pun
I
burn
my
lip
Take
another
pull,
bust
another
shot,
y'all
can't
stop
me
Come
through
in
a
jail
suit,
and
the
new
Beef
'n'
Broccolis
Doin
it,
If
I'm
havin
a
good
time
and
you
ruin
it
I
seen
a
nice
casket
that'll
look
good
with
you
in
it
New
improved
shit,
the
year
start
with
a
two
shit
Next
millenium,
sell
a
million,
clue
shit
Exclusive,
to
tell
the
truth,
y'all
useless
Cause
I'm
a
dime
that
could
rhyme
you
still
on
the
deuce
list
Remi
Martin,
dash,
reminisce,
slash
Remi,
cash
like
a
check
in
a
stash
Me
without
rhymes
is
like
a
flynt
with
no
flash
Stripper
with
no
ass,
car
with
no
gas
Tryna
go
fast,
I
love
to
hear
the
guns
go
blast
I
love
the
sounds
of
the
shells
fallin'
down
Love
to
smoke
weed,
stay
blowin'
trees,
fuck
liquor
When
shit
get
thick,
I
love
to
hear
my
bitches
raise
his
clique
up
You
sick,
but
I'm
sicker,
plus
our
guns
is
bigger
If
you
really
wanna
kill
us,
do
it
nigga
pull
the
trigga
How
you
figure,
you
could
really
come
and
take
what's
mine
And
all
I
gotta
do
is
send
a
little
letter
to
Rah
He'll
send
the
troops
out,
my
brother
don't
hesitate
to
pull
a
tool
out
And
I'm
his
little
sis,
so
he
taught
me
the
same
shit
Quick
to
flip,
but
your
name
should
be
prickless
Cause
every
time
you
open
your
mouth,
you
suckin'
my
dick
Talkin
shit,
as
if
you
a
soldier
nigga
When
you
a
no
cash,
low
class,
doja
nigga
Y'all
rock
rocks,
we
bling
bling
boulders
nigga
Look
over
your
shoulder
I'm
in
the
Rover,
it's
over
nigga
Inhale,
cock
back
and
bust,
just
because
I
know
none
of
y'all
busters
is
touchin'
us
I
got
the
thoroughest
thugs
and,
baby
reminisces
That
don't
give
a
fuck,
with
a
aim
that
never
misses
Hugs
and
kisses
never,
just
slugs
and
stiches
Thugs
and
bitches
forever,
check
the
mugshot
pictures
Fuck
the
weather,
I
still
got
my
tan
Timbs
on
Just
copped
the
pink
mink,
and
winter
been
gone
I
been
on
this
thug
shit
y'all
can't
seem
to
fuck
wit
My
shit
is
hot
dogs,
to
top
it
off,
still
spittin'
mustard
No
fair,
cause
I
don't
care
I
go
to
war
wit
a
musket
Just
give
me
some
Oreos,
a
jar
of
dro
and
two
dutches
Cause
Pun
be
the
nicest
motherfucker
on
the
market
Now
he
got
the
nicest
bitch,
what,
Remi
Martin
![Big Pun feat. Remy Martin - Yeah Baby](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/c/f/l/t/1cynr1tlfc.jpg)
1 The Creation (intro)
2 Watch Those
3 Off Wit His Head (featuring Prospect) - Explict
4 It's So Hard (featuring Donell Jones)
5 We Don't Care (featuring Cuban Link) - Explict
6 Leatherface - Explict
7 Air Pun (skit)
8 100% (feat. Tony Sunshine)
9 Laughing At You
10 Nigga Shit - Explict
11 Ms. Martin
12 My Turn
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