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Lil Kim_ Black Friday

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					Black Friday
*These lyrics were transcribed by ear. If you believe any song lyrics should be corrected, please inform us

Pissin’ On ‘Em
Champagne Poppin’ Feat. Wiz Khalifa
Hustle Hard
Killin’ Em Feat. Fabolous
6 Foot Tall
Clap, Clap Feat. IRS
Kimmy Girl Feat. Keri Hilson
Gimme’ Brain
Cheatin’ Feat. Rihanna
Grindin’ Makin’ Money Feat. Nicki Minaj, Birdman
Racks
P*ssy Callin’ Feat. Lil’ Boosie
Black Friday
Faded Feat. Red Cafe, Rick Ross
IRS Freestyle
Lights, Camera, Action
Buy U Music Feat. Keri Hilson

Pissin’ On Em
(to the beat of Nicki Minaj‟s “Did It On „Em”)

Chorus:
Shitted on em
I‟m just pissin on em
Spittin on em
Put your middle fingers in the air if you did it on em
Shitted on em
I‟m just pissin‟ on em
Spittin on em
Put your middle fingers in the air if you did it on em
I just shitted on em

All these bitches is my pets
I keep a tight leash around they necks
Bitches try to bite, I take they ass to the vet
Put em right to sleep like they popped a Xanax
Yeah, I be shittin on em
Spittin on em
Kimmy go in, I go extra hard
I swipe yo whole life with my debit card

[Chorus]

The Lamborghini turns into Megatron
Got em blue in the face, Avatar
I be shittin on em, diarrhea
You bitches looking burnt, gonorrhea
Same bitches throwing shots tryna be a
I guess it‟s all politics, Condoleeza
I‟m the first lady, Her Majesty
Rap‟s royalty bitch, now you work for me

[Chorus]

All you clones had your shine like cubic stones
Now the shows over, Jenny Jones
Toss em in the lake like Ricki bitch
And I stay on this money like a pyramid
Yeah, I been bout a check ho
You stole yo whole swag, you worst them a klepto
I just blow em kisses, X and O
Got em sick to they stomach, Pepto

All you bitches is some bums
I feel your cup up with change
You hos should be rappin on a number 4 train
The price of your mother‟s house, I paid for my Range
And that‟s an autobiography
I swear these hos be obsessed how they copy me
Laxative flow, shittin on em constantly
And I leave a stain like I ain‟t wiped my ass properly

Champagne Poppin’

Keep the champagne coming all night
That‟s my motto
To everybody in the crowd, got they own bottles
Nails done, hair done, manicured toes
They still on them pink bottles, we on that iced roads
Yeah, that‟s that new shit
Bottles all white, like Obama‟s crib
And they still talking old gold
I just netted half a mill from some old gold
Bout to run Polo
That be the logo
Don P, Ace of Spades, David Kliko
Champagne bath in a champagne glass
I piss champagne, that‟s my campaign ad
IRS be the MVP‟s of the year
See them sparkles in the air
Know they coming over here
We poppin‟ Rosé like it‟s Independence Day
Even though it‟s mo bottle on the way

Chorus:
(Wiz Khalifa)
I‟ma need mo‟ champagne
Tell the waitress grab a couple mo‟ bottles and bring em up
We got a bar for every nigga that came with us
Grab some broads, let‟s bring em up
Grab a drink and get fucked up
Champagne, see them bottles of Rozay when they think of us
We a star up in the club
Let‟s spend paper up
Bitch you hate to fuck
Get the waitress bruh,
I‟ma need mo champagne

And I‟m still talkin‟ champagne
Good weed, bad bitches and airplanes
Niggas get extra like spare change
Leave ya bitch round my gang then she fair game
Get so hot, you standing near a flame
20,000 on my wrist, 50 on my chain
Club owners mad, we drinkin all the Rozay
And niggas hate but I just go off what the hos say
He a skinny nigga, but he do it big
Yeah, it‟s lookin like a movie, but it‟s how I live
Young boss, Taylor Gang general
Drinking out the pink bottle, Rozay Imperial
And my bad bitch, look like a center fold
Cook like a chef, smoke weed like it‟s medicinal
Smell the engine burn, you hear my tires murk
We be poppin corks like fireworks

I‟ma need mo‟ champagne
VIP‟s full of red bottles
In the city that I come from, I‟m the head honcho
Ounces full of kush, bottles full of Moet
See me in my yellow car, she got so wet
Used to smoke blunts, now she roll planes
Quit fuckin with her nigga, he was so lame
Say she love the taste but she don‟t know the name
Drinkin by the case
I gon need ya to bring
Mo champagne
I‟m with my goons getting liquored up
Make this money, then blow it like I don‟t give a fuck
Show up to the club, they pull them bottles out
You getting paper, you should know just what I‟m talking bout
Uh, I live the life you write a song about
Bitches think I‟m famous, favors come in large amounts
Standing on the table, standing on the couch
Somebody tell the waitress that we almost out

[Chorus]

Hustle Hard
(to the beat of Ace Hood‟s “Hustle Hard”)

Chorus:
Same old shit, just a different toilet
It is what it is
Sometimes I can‟t call it
I need another house, another coupe
I‟m tryna buy an alley
So guess what I‟ma do
Hustle, hustle, hustle
Hustle hard (3X)
Closed mouths don‟t get fed on this boulevard

Million dollar deposit
Half a mil‟ in my closet
Damn a milky white chocolate
If the roof is on, then I chop it
Aspen on my finger
On the steering wheel of that beamer
I just bought the new M6
Somebody customize my gina
Kimmy pull up at your party
Maybachs, Ferraris
Ducatis and Hollis
Pink season Bacardi‟s
Don‟t nothing move till I say so
We all about them pesos
IRS, nigga we the mob
We hustle hard, cocaine dough
Got Mercedes topless
Ain‟t that bitch exotic
My mans just bought me that white Rolls
And I ain‟t talkin flowers
I supplied you first
But you worried bout what I‟m earning
Money I keep burnin
As the world keep turning

[Chorus]

Killin’ Em

[Chorus:]
You what's up girl, ain't gotta ask it
I dead em all now, hop outta caskets
They should arrest you or whoever dressed you
Ain't gon stress you, but ima let you know
Girl you be killin em
You be killin em
Girl you be killin em
You be killin em
Girl you be killin em
You be killin em
Girl you be killin em
Oooh

[Fabolous]
You ain't gotta worry bout her, shorty straight
Been chasing her for 2 days, first 48
A bad bitch cost, she worth every cent
She look like the best money that I ever spent
Just watching my cutie pie get beautified
Make me want better jewels, a newer ride
Louis Vuitton shoes, she got too much pride
Her feet are killing her, I call it shoe-icide
Looking good has it's sacrifices
Chilly weather bring 4 figure jacket prices
Her body nice, face dime
Give you that iPhone 4, face time
Shorty in the streets, still handle the home
Enough class for wine, still handle Patron
When them other hoes call I hand her the phone
And she hand em the tone

[Chorus]

It‟s Kimmy Blanco, fly girl mercenary
See the closet like a chinchilla cemetery
Dave Gasals made out of crocodiles
You couldn‟t find these shows on forensic files
(Girl you be killin em)
Dirt nap time, CPR couldn‟t bring „em back , flat line
Polo cardigan, when I yacht cruise
Michael Kohrs shades, Louis boat shoes
I‟m the new trend, I‟m what‟s in
You hos out of season, Kim‟s the reason
Gucci bicycle, I‟m riding on you broads
Prada backpack, mountain climbing on you broads
Dior mascara, Labront lip gloss
Queen B 101, I teach you how to floss
Killing „em like an abortion place,
Somebody wrap they casket in caution tape
You‟re done here

[Chorus]
In your “just came from the gym” clothes
In a fitted cap and some Timbos
And a pair of flats, well trimmed toes
Camera in the mirror, BBM pose
Still killin them hos
You still killin them hos
You still killin them hos

6 Foot Tall
(to the beat of Lil Wayne‟s “6 Foot, 7 Foot”)

Okay, okay I got the ball
I‟m coming down the court like Jordan with his tongue out
Petite and all
I‟m stepping on y‟all like I‟m 20 foot tall
(…)
Juice box like to start a 20 man brawl
Shame on y‟all
Thinkin I‟ma fall
I‟ma never fall like Dolce Lean Mean
IRS, the team
Live in New Jerus
Rap 7-18
Buckingham Palace like Elizabeth the Queen
Hello, hello, it‟s Mrs. Steal Your Man
Give him right back to you
Then steal him again
You can get another one
Bet I still him
You already know
All my arm looking like the Aspen slope
You already snow
Rocks, Avalanche
You already slow
You already stupid like ski racks on the Maybach
James Brown Big Payback
Ow, where my cape at?
Where my cape at?

Yeah, IRS
Fresh like teeth
Like Red Velvet
Wrap my scarf around you head
Cowboy helmet
Guns like picture
We draw them from the pelvis
You on your third strike
Like repeated felons
Record like Mayweather
Never took a loss
I keep a goonie with me
And I ain‟t talking bout sloth
IRS, emblem on the Porsche
Bitch, what you want
The help or the boss?
Huh?
What you want, ma?
Might be the same fabric
But come from different cloths
My bank account bigger than the belly on Ross
She hit high notes until her voice get hoarse
She‟ll be another victim
Casualty, corpse
Call a coroner, come and get the body up
So hot, bust the top off thermometers
IRS, MTB it‟s tax time
Any problems we step on it
Land mines

Lambo:
Hide ya baby motha
Cause I‟m the mothafucka
Sixteen wheeler chain, jewelry game trucker
You can have my girl
Cause I‟ll go find another
The only thing I am a keeper of is my brother
New Jack Hustle, Amex like Wesley
I didn‟t go achoo but the bitches still bless me
Swag on a million
Bank account match it
Guns only one time use like a matchstick
Throw em away
That‟s it
I‟m holding more hot iron than a blacksmith
Pause, I leave „em 6 feet on they back stiff
Niggas been sleeping, I just relaxed „em
Circling you niggas, I just relapped em
Kim, the IRS, so you know we gotta tax em
Clap Clap
And we keep clappin
I‟m living like Vegas baby
Anything can happen
Shout out to you niggas who said it would never happen
Egg on yo face
Use my dick as a napkin

Okay, Beamer, Benz or Bentley
I‟m like eenie, meenie, miney mo
Fuck it, I‟ll just whip em all like I‟m Papa Joe
Whippin that bitch like a young Ike
You be stalling, I be balling like a young Mike
But I ain‟t with that bullshit
Ain‟t tryna feel Jacksons, just Benjamins
Maybe a couple Grants like Horace
My money the tallest
It‟s like 6 foot, 7 foot, 8 feet high
It‟s the little old guy coming out of Bedstuy
Bout to burn shit down like a young Left Eye
Like T-Boz, my right hand‟s so Chili
And my chain got ya bitch getting dizzy
Rolex got her hypnotized like Biggie
Yeah I‟m so notorious
I‟m a son of a gun like Cory is
It‟s tax season mothafucka
It‟s the IRS, mothafucka the rest
Yeah homie this chess,
And I‟ma guard the Queen till the mothafuckin death

Clap Clap

Clap, clap, I think they need a round of applause,
Yeah, it‟s I.R.S bitches!
You know what it is!
You‟re now hustling with the godmother! Cocaine cow girl.

(Chorus)
Clap, clap, I think they need a round of applause,
Clap, clap, I think they need a round of applause,
Clap, clap, I think they need a round of applause,
Clap, clap, I think they need a round of applause!

I gotta give it to y‟all
Here‟s your round of applause
Gig is up baby, final curtain call
The black widow, center of corruption
Don‟t know by now, you gon get accustomed
Pay attention homie, follow instructions,
Kimmy bout to show y‟all the art of hustling
Cold hearted, mobbing through Brooklyn
Ain‟t no shook hands over here, we get it cookin
I strike harder; I‟m ten times smarter,
I sneak up on you like Japan did Pearl Harbor.
I‟m a fire starter, back draft don‟t stand too close,
You catch a heat rush, skinny blanco, homie
The head honcho
When the queen rains it pours
I hope you got your poncho.
So mention my name out of your mouth,
And before you take a bow
We‟ll be clapping from the crowds

[Chorus:]

Since y‟all bitches like attention, come get some
A million ways of dying, nigga just pick one
I‟m a ill shot, I got a sick gun,
And it‟s contagious, so you‟ll catch it even if you run
Uh, and my niggers feeling flu-ish too
Disconnected phone line, no calling truce
Pull up 100 deep
IRS, the crew
We need the four doors, we can‟t do the coupe
We shoot natural actors, like movie shoots
And I‟m a vet, baby
You just a new recruit
So mention Kim name in your songs, and I‟ll be at your show
With a round of applause

Clap, clap! It‟s Kimmy Blanco
You already know I got shooters
And our clips is full in case you want some more
Looka here
Encore

I think you deserve a standing O
Young Dash, I be everywhere you scared to go
Just left the West like Amber Rose
Now I‟m back in B.K. in that Phantom Ghost
Let‟s have a toast, not for the douche bags
For you old school niggas, it‟s that new swag
It‟s that new shit, yeah that new track
Ain‟t nothing young, it‟s that grown man cash
It‟s the big bank take little bank
If the Queen say its beef
Then you on a dinner plate
So mention Kim name in yo verses
And we gon clap it up till they close the hearses
Chorus

I.R.S. we eliminate the imitation,
They on death row, execute the perpetration!
Nigga we charter flights, permanent vacations,
This model eighteen, that‟s my standing ovation
No jersey shores, but we handle situations
Send my enemies up, elevation
I‟m a bad boy just like Biggie was
White and navy when I‟m riding through the city cuz
My turf all blue like Boise state
We bench press niggas then we give them all the weight
So mention Kim‟s name in your raps
and we‟ll be back stage with the hammers pulled back
Clap, clap!

Kimmy Girl
(to the beat of Keri Hilson‟s “Pretty Girl Rock”)

Do the Kimmy girl rock, do the Kimmy girl rock
What‟s my name?

My name is Kimmy, flyer than a Frisbee
Boys coming at me, wanna see me in my Vicki‟s
Might do a little dating, like my girl Chili
But I‟m already taken, married to Mr. Benji
Wetter than a river, sweeter than a swisher
My Jimmy Choos cuter than the girl that‟s with you
Everybody staring, might as well take a picture
Mail it to the haters, now sing it with me ladies

Chorus:
All eyes on me when I walk in,
No question that this girl's a 10
Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful
Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful
My walk, my talk the way I dress
It's not my fault so please don't trip
Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful
Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful

It‟s only one QB, Bedstuy beauty
If looks was a killer, I‟d probably be an Uzi
They be hating on me cuz they man tryna pursue me
I‟m something exotic, she‟s hardly a cutie
I‟m flyer than a G6, sweet like peaches
Bottom like an apple, I know you want to eat it
He got a huge appetite and I‟m the one to feed it
I‟m Michael Jackson bad, tell that other bitch to beat it

Chorus

CT, DC
Do the Kimmy girl rock
ATL and Miami, New York to LA
All my girls, let me hear you say
Do the Kimmy girl rock
All over the world, all over the world
If I forgot y‟all please don‟t be mad at me

Gimme Brain
(to the beat of Travis Porter‟s “Make it Rain”)

Step into my rainforest
Step into my rainforest
Only for the sexy people

Step into my rainforest
Yeah, yeah

Step into my rainforest
I‟m tryna see who gon make it, make it rain hardest
Tornado pussy, can you make it monsoon?
Honeymoon, now we fuckin like the bride and groom

Chorus:
You want to taste the honey, I need to see the money
You want to see the spread, you got to spend some bread
Them racks in your pants, that‟ll make me dance
Now fill the bag with cash
Come on, hop up on this ass

Make it rain trick
Make it, make it rain trick
Make it rain trick
Make it, make it rain trick
Gimme brain trick
Gimme, gimme, brain trick
Gimme brain,
Make it rain
Gimme brain, trick

I‟ma need some brains bitch
I‟ma need some brains bitch
Need some brains bitch
I‟ma need some brains bitch
I‟ma make it rain bitch
I‟ma make it rain bitch
Make it rain bitch
I‟ma make it rain bitch

This Kitty ain‟t for robots
Even Titanics get washed away
He put his head between his legs
And he washed his face
Come and scuba dive
Inside my deep blue see
Wanna ride this tidal wave
You gotta pay a fee
Lick on the kit, I‟ll lick on the dick
Ride or die bitch, I sit on the shit
Cant get it wet, I‟ll spit on the shit
Spit on, spit on, spit on the shit
Slurp it up, sit back on the dick
Doggy style, back it up on the dick
Get a grip on them hips
Bite on my lips
Take it out, cum right on my tits

Chorus

Cheatin
(to the beat of Rihanna‟s “Man Down”)

It was love at first sight
Everything was right
I didn‟t know him had another life
With a kid and wife
And he bought me a ring
And he bought us both the same cars
What started out as a simple love affair, eh
Ended with someone inside electric chair, eh
And the same man that she was in love with
Now in love with me

I didn‟t mean to hurt her
Coulda been somebody‟s mom
But she took his heart when
She pulled out that gun

Chorus:
Rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum
Man Down
Rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum
Man Down

Oh mama mama mama
I just shot a man down
In central station
In front of a big ol crowd
Oh Why
Oh Why
Oh mama mama mama
I just shot a man down
In central station

I can‟t imagine what I‟d do
If I were in her shoes
Cause if he did this to me
I‟d probably kill him too
Cause if he played me for a fool
I‟d probably lose my cool
And reach for my firearm
I wish they didn‟t lay him down
But it‟s too late to turn back now
Don‟t know what she was thinking
But I know what she was feeling
And now he‟s no longer around

I didn‟t mean to hurt him
Coulda been somebody‟s son
But she took his heart when
She pulled out that gun

[Chorus]

I never thought she‟d do it
I never thought she‟d do it
I never thought she‟d do it
Oh gosh
Why ever did she do it?
Why ever did she do it?
Why ever did she do it?
Why did she pull the trigger
Pull the trigger
Pull the trigger, boom
And end his,end his life so soon
Pull the trigger
Pull the trigger
Pull the trigger, boom
Now what you gon do
Me say what you gon do

Rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum
Me say one man down
Oh God
Rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum
Me say one man down

Now you are a criminal
Criminal, criminal
Yes you are a criminal, criminal, criminal
Somebody held the gun while she ran out of town
Before it be another one man down

Rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum
Man Down
Rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum rum bum bum bum
Man Down

Oh mama mama mama
I just shot a man down
In central station
In front of a big ol crowd
Oh Why
Oh Why
Oh mama mama mama
I just shot a man down
In central station

Grindin Makin Money

[Intro:]
This my 9 to 5
Still livin all that I like
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money

[Lil Kim:]
I grind all day gettin money
Damn it take all day to count the money
I'm in the freezer neck full of iceicles
I'm a dime you other chicas need a nickel
Who that in the phantom (Kimmy!)
Or maybe in that MaBarati or that S1-50
Or in that bulgatti you can't fuck with me
I do this for my niggas on the grind
And never be another me
What you out your mind
I get it poppin when it's money on the line
Damn I dropped the house on my wrist for the shine
Lambouton Fendi Dior all the time
I snitched in the Louis store yea I dropped the dime
Got baby and big daddy slim on the line
The way that we ball I'm sayin is a crime
But we don't really care I continue gettin mine
Cause this my 9 to 5

[Chorus:]
All day
This my 9 to 5
All night
Still livin all that I like
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
[x2]

[Birdman:]
Back on my stunna shit
Flyer with a extra clip
Flyer in the new whip
Ball hard the matchin whip
Keep my shorty with me shit
Make sure she flip that shit
Ride around deliver shit
Get some of this money shit
Hustle all the time and she shine when we hit the bitch
Ball ever night in the club like we do this shit
Uptown soldier know how I roller
Brought a tour overseas now she all over
Hurricane hit that bitch
Now we had to do that shit
Bounce right back in my hood with some new shit
Everyday sunshine keep my tool all the time
Blowin out the pound every day the money on the grind

[Chorus:]
All day
This my 9 to 5
All night
Still livin all that I like
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
[x2]

[Nicki Minaj:]
Ay yo
Eenie mennie minnie moe
I'm pi-pi-pickin hoes
To pucker up and kiss my ass under the mistletoe
Yes I am about my cake just call me Annie Mae
I keep a gentleman first nine Benjamin
Don't mess with Washington
Don't mess with Abraham
Patty cake patty cake better get the bakers man
Frosted flakes is on my fingers fruity loops is on my wrist
Fruity pebble Barbie pendant don't forget to ice my kiss
Now where my girls at
That stack money
That young money
That cash money
I work the red carpet you clean the red carpet
Go get your vacuum don't you get me started

[Chorus:]
All day
This my 9 to 5
All night
Still livin all that I like
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
Grindin makin money
[x2]
Racks
(to the beat of YC‟s “Racks”)

Racks on racks on racks
Racks on racks on racks
Racks on racks on racks (4X)

Got racks on racks on racks
Just counted bout a hundred stacks
Just came from the bank
I‟m going right back
Headed to the mall
We gon spend it all
The Hermes Louis scarf
Wood all in my car
Like Lakers when I ball
Like Chris Paul when I ball
Like Carmelo when I ball
Should be playin in the All Star
Cause I‟m a rock star
International rock star
No matter where we are
We gon rep the block
Lace all on my bra
Dancin on the bar
We shining from afar
Like these rocks in my car
Stay fresh to death
BBS‟s on my neck
It‟s the IRS
We all about the cash

What ya got?
Racks on racks on racks
What they got?
Racks on racks on racks
What ya got
Racks on racks (4x)

(…)
My fingers a king
I‟m riding through the A
Up in NYC
Racks on racks on racks
Money stand tall like Shaq
Still got work on the block
Still get money from the trap
It‟s the IRS
And you know we don‟t play
Spitting candy bars and it‟s fucking payday
Quarter brick, half a brick, whole brick
Ay!
Twenty bricks a piece and the whole clique straight
It‟s four in the oven
We let them pies bake
And this is my party
So we all getting paid
Ferrari apple red
Apple Barbie in my drink
Like Chad Albright
I keep a track right

What ya got?
Racks on racks on racks
What they got?
Racks on racks on racks
We got
Racks on racks (4x)

Pussy Callin’

I‟m ya pusher girl,
I‟m ya pusher girl

Lil Boosie (talking)
You ever had a piece of pussy man
That be on your mind like money?
Lil Boosie and Lil Kim

I‟m ya pusher girl
I‟m ya pusher girl
I got it
Hooked on it

Lil Boosie:
That pussy keep callin me

I‟m ya pusha girl
I got it
Hooked on it
Atomic
I got that bomb shit
I got that bomb shit

Lil Boosie:
You ever had a piece of pussy so good and tight
That you hear that pussy talking at night?
Come here
Lingerie drive you crazy when she put it on
Safe sex but sometimes I hate to put it on
Make me moan, grab my back and pull me deeper in her
She catch 3, I catch 2
And now I‟m sleeping in her
Ms. Virginia, take her time when she hit that head
She pull her long hair back and sit between my legs
Blow ya mind when you got a dime
Who rub ya nuts when you fuck her from behind
I ain‟t lyin
Something special bout her
Got me squeaking out the house like a fucking mouse
Man that pussy so wet for me
She my ecstasy
Crazy, pussy damn near better than yo old lady
I probably need to stop answering the phone
Fucking her, I‟ll fuck around and have my family gone
She get me right when we fuck, yeah
She put ice on my nuts when we fuck, yeah
Got me texting and shit
I ain‟t never text before
Got me eating that pussy
I ain‟t never ate before

Chorus:
That pussy keep on calling me
Keep on calling me
Keep on calling me
Gon get me in trouble
That pussy keep calling me
Keep on calling me
Keep on calling me
I know I can‟t love her
But that pussy keep on calling me
Keep on calling me
Keep on calling me
Keep on calling me
That pussy keep calling me
Keep on calling me
Keep on calling me
Get me in trouble

My pussy on his mind
Like a fitted cap
He stay on my line
Like a phone tap
He strung off the cat
He love to stroke it
My strawberry haze
He want to smoke it
And she‟ll turn into a tiger if you provoke it
Water gun pussy
Super soak it
I leave him solid as a rock
Turn his dick to stone
You know that kind of pussy
That break up happy homes
Like a cockatoo
I ate up all his bread
Addicted to my top
He call it crack head
I love his doggy style
I call him Snoopy
His friends say he feined out
They call him pookie

Chorus

Black Friday
(to the beat of Pharoahe Monch‟s “Simon Says (Get the Fuck Up)”)

[Angie Martinez:]
It‟s funny „cause, you know, we‟ve been asking people what they wanted to know.
I mean, clearly, you‟ve been having this thing with Kim.
And I don‟t know, just thinking about you and where you were from and that you‟re a rapper –
and I‟m thinking, sure, I know things have gotten crazy and people are assuming -
even though you say it‟s not specifically about her - that Roman‟s Revenge is for Kim.

[Nicki Minaj:]
Umm, you know, she just really jumped and you gotta be careful when you pick fights.
And that's what I've learned in this business, you just never know –

[Lil' Kim:]
Shut the fuck up!

[Lil' Kim:]
Who the fuck want war?
Fed-Ex beef straight to your front door.
It'll be a murder scene,
I'm turning Pink Friday to Friday the 13th.
Aight you Lil‟ Kim clone clown,
All this buffoonery, the shit stops now.
Time for you to lay down, I'm sick of the fraud,
I put hands on this bitch like a spa massage.
We all know your last name's what got you your job,
You's a put together gimmick, somethin‟ like a collage.
Since you're putting on a show you gon‟ get the applause -
Clap clap with your frame like a fucking garage (Yeaaaah)
This hood shit, you and Drake ain't built for --
This the shit the other bitch almost got killed for.
I'm still counting what Hard Core generated.
Bet my shit keep spendin‟ like a syndicated.
Corny broad, I leave you bloody like you menstruated.
You hot air ass bitch shoulda been deflated.
This ain't a championship fight, I been the greatest.

See the fact is... what you doin‟, I did it.
You lames tryna clone my style and run wit it.
That's cool, I was the first one wit it -
You's a Lil‟ Kim wannabe, you just hate to admit it.
I'm the blueprint; you ain't nothin' brand new,
Check your posters and videos,
you'll always be number two.
I seen „em come, I seen‟ em go, still I remain.
Sweetie, you goin' on your 14th minute of fame,
I‟m over 10 years strong still running the game
Cut the comparisons I‟m in the legendary lane.
Fighting for a spot? Child please, I‟m solidified.
With my hands tied, you couldn't beat me if you bitches tried.
Either you high or sippin‟ that shit Wayne on
I get top dollar for whateva my name on
Go stick your head in a tornado - brainstorm.
I drop bombs. Flex. Napalm.
Black and yellow, will pull up in your ghetto,
Giuseppes when I step out, posted up in stilettos.
Pussy so pink like my Kitty sayin‟ Hello,
If I whistle they‟ll pistol whip you in all five boroughs.

I‟m from Brooklyn, I be everywhere comfortably.
Now who pumped you and told you to come romp wit me?
You the type to run your mouth and then run from me
I‟m poppin‟ off in your hood wit no company.
Come on, Queens ain‟t showin‟ you no love,
I was there the other night poppin‟ bottles with a thug.
You like Washington. Heifer, I‟m Benji.
You got a buzz right now, and I had a frenzy.
Oh yeah, welcome to the fam… Fendi.
You needa stop, you‟re not hot, you‟re a burning match
That means the end is near soon, copy that?
Ho, I see...they really got you gassed
Like I‟m a thing of the past.
Better slow down, dummy, you „bout to crash
Stink pussy ho! I‟m giving you a bath,
Thermometer in hand and I‟m comin‟ for your ass.
Who you think you gettin‟ past?
„I see right through you,‟ your whole shit is made of glass.

[crickets]

I draw back, I‟m a Brooklyn Borough bitch,
Rep for my borough bitch,
Never been the type to have beef and try to settle shit.
I ride out „til the wheels fall off
And my niggas squeeze „til the last shell go off.
Fuck your whole team, all I see is a bunch of weirdos.
You‟s a airhead bitch... scarecrow.
Ha, ain‟t nothing old „bout my money bitch. (Ha ha)
This is grown liquid assets.
Benjamin‟s my daddy, you Young Money bastards!
You and Diddy? Sorry bunch of swaggerjackers.
I mothered you hos, I should claim you on my income taxes.
Bobby Fisch in the flesh, talk about a great.
So on my next move, I‟m yelling checkmate.
I smell a massacre. I‟m Charles Manson,
You don‟t stand a chance wit her.
Jeffrey Dahmer, you lookin‟ like lunch to me.
„Bout to kill all you bitches like Ted Bundy.
Leave your whole head red like Peg Bundy.
You‟re hilarious, thanks for all the laughs –
You‟re garbage, so I‟m taking out the trash.
You, shit on me? C‟mon baby girl...
Ain‟t enough ass shots in the world!
You‟re a nuisance, you‟ll probably steal my new shit
But you could never fuck with me, so chuck it up, deuces.
All around the world I ball like a ball team.
I stack chips, call me Mrs. Rothstein.
Trix is for kids, silly rabbit, you‟re my offspring.
Kim more anticipated than a LeBron ring.

[Lil Kim mocking Nicki Minaj:]
"I mean I know... I know you guys asked me if Roman‟s Revenge was about Kim...
and no, I, it‟s not about Kim...
Actually if Kim thought it was about her, I‟m so sorry.
I‟m so sorry, I apologize, Kim.
I don‟t know, I just had temporary insanity... I lost my teeth and my mind..."

Faded

[Chorus]
I got a feeling
A real good feeling
I‟mma be faded
The bar is open
We just bought it
I‟mma be faded
Let the Champagne p-o-o-o-ur
p-o-o-o-ur, p-o-o-o-ur
Let the Champagne p-o-o-o-ur
p-o-o-o-ur, p-o-o-o-ur

[Red Cafe]
Damn I look good,
Somebody take a photo
I run my hiz-ouse
You can ask Jojo
Yank fitted on
My money on Jeter
My girls all dimes,
Louis Vuitton Divas
I‟m fly like an overnight letter
Shorty sleep with me
Make your overnights wetter
Better I‟m faded (I‟m faded)
And tonight I‟m gonna get wasted
See to everybody listening,
If it‟s on I‟ma get at „em
I can say whatever I‟m a tax paying citizen
Middle finger up
 I don‟t got a conscience
I just go hard like the trio from Yonkers
Head honcho, Kush in the console
Bad boy, now they shook like Cosmo‟s
I‟m all that, everyday all black
Got Ciroc on deck so I‟m faded off that

[Chorus]

Lil Kim:
Bottles on me till the whole club faded
I‟m in the VIP and I‟m white girl wasted
A rock star, party like Van Halen
Phantom come with a chauffer so I don‟t valet it
We celebrate, pour the Rose, let it flow
To a new year, new money, and some extra o‟s
Let‟s toast to new cars, fly condo‟s
IRS, we the Celtics and I‟m Rondo
Bottles in the air like luggage from jet cargos
We keep the champagne coming till the bar close
These S-1‟s keep the Don on chill
I just blew 50 like a Shady deal
I‟m faded
Me and my peoples
We wasted
The bar is open
Mo bottles in the V‟s
Picking up mo cheese
Got a feeling it‟s gon be a good night
Like Black Eyed Peas

[Chorus]

[Rick Ross]
Two homes on the block
Each one mill and this ring on my finger is an E one deal
Canary yellow stone, can‟t be faded
Fatigue belt, 45 made for the navy
Young niggas ready to grapple down ya buildin‟
I‟m living chilling, arms wrapped around a Brazilian
In the presence of a Don, be cautious but calm
Can‟t be faded, two pills a charm
She licks on my chest, reading tatts on my arm
Hit her from the back, same time my mind blown
Speechless so she scream in silence
A real bad boy and all my speeches violent

[Chorus]

IRS Freestyle

The book ain‟t look this good since Hogan
IRS be the team
Nigga we goes in
And we ain‟t with the back and forth like tennis
But we got the whole US open, ya dig?
Now they all want to roll with the rock stars
They ain‟t make the bed, use to die hard
So wavy that you might need a life guard
Rookie of the year, soon to be an icon
If life‟s a bitch, then I‟m looking like a pimp

Kim the Queen, so I‟m looking like the prince
Them skinny jeans got y‟all looking like Prince
My name ain‟t Porter, but I‟m looking like Rich
Everybody talking king pin with no ki‟s
Car start the Benz with no keys
Sorry, sweetheart, that‟s a push start
I bet she got good brain cause she look smart
I ain‟t trippin on em
Rookie of the year
Blake Griffin on em
Ball like an All Star, IRS the dream team
I be in the sports car, looking like Bruce Wayne

Chorus:
What you gon do when IRS come for you?
Ha, pay that money
What you gon do when IRS come for you?
Ha, pay that money up

Like Nicolotte Testa
I can make it rain
You‟ll be left getting wet like Eddie Kane
I‟ll stop yo heartbeat, thinking that you David Ruffin
I get rid of weight nigga like liposuction
Might catch my neck flooded like Mr. T
Go head and reach and I‟ll squeeze you like Chi Ali
Mo money, mo problems, you heard B.I.G.
But I live the glamourous life
Ask Sheila E
Any event I attend, I‟m the life of it
Drop heards, you might see me with yo wife in it
I‟m on my grown man, yacht mast, no ice in it
If I like it, I cop it, fuck the price of it
Money accounted for, no Bernard Madoff
Got more stripes than that jersey on A Rod
I‟m so appalled and I don‟t pitch baseballs
You tryna be a rock star, on‟t quit yo day job
You work 9 to 5, 10 to 6, 12 to 8
It‟s 12 bricks in the trunk of that 8, 8
The transporter, I be up and down that interstate
I cross bridges from Brooklyn to the Golden Gate

[Chorus]

I‟m in a purple haze Porsche
Dutch colored seats
My young boy blowin a dro
And he itchin to reach
I‟m the blueprint
Already know who the nicest
Without me, they stuck in an identity crisis
These blue stones don‟t come with no prices
The modern Cleopatra, but they calling me Isis
It‟s tax season, time to face the IRS
I been lenient, but now it‟s time to pay your debts
I don‟t ride the beat, I make love to the mothafucka
I‟m in the booth with nothing on but a diamond gotta
You see it‟s bigger than nina when I cut
How you think you comin off when yo boss was my partner
I‟m in the chop and Ms. Thing, you can have the name
Cauze godmomma on to bigger and better things
You see these stripes on my arm
I‟m a veteran
You game hurtin, bitch I‟m the Novocain
Haters where you at?
I dare you holla back
I got my foot on they neck like a chiroprat
All that tough talk
What happened to all of that?
I got a Siamese twin, they call her copy cat
You ain‟t gotta acknowledge that
But you can roger that, and you can copy that
I see em rocking Chanel, so I Prada that
The doll baby, trendsetter, follow that
I heard a fuck boy say I ain‟t been hot since 9-7
I beg to differ, turn to Hot 9 – 7
They still tryna be me from 9 -7
I‟m still eating off my shit from 9- 7
No single, no album, still drew em out
I keep a hot 16, watch me pour em out
This ice freeze em up, this heat throw em out
And he don‟t get hard for you cuase I wore him out

Yeah Kimmy Blanco
Uh huh, IRS
Y‟all already know what it is, tax season
We coming to collect

[Chorus]


Lights Camera Action
(to the beat of Kanye West‟s All of the Lights)

Chorus:
All of the lights
I‟m bout to turn up the volume up on y‟all
Extra high, I want y‟all to hear this
Turn up the volume on all y‟all
Want you to hear everything
Want you to hear everything
Want you to hear everything
All of the lights

If you pay for it then you can have it
For the rest of your life
All of the lights
Cause we‟ll be making love underneath
All of the lights
If you pay for it, then you can have it
For the rest of your life
All of the lights
Cause we‟ll be making love underneath all of the lights

I‟m in the bed
Legs spread
I‟m doggy style
Laying on my head
Turn all the lights up
I want you to see
All inside
You gon remember me
Stick your fingers in
Like my joy in
Now the lights is up
Like when the party ends
Imagine the after party
Come celebrate with me
We can have an orgy
Only ballers at my jubilee
Ask any short, long
You just gotta turn me on
Keep it cracking till the dawn
Broke as hops in the mornin‟

Cop lights, flash lights, spot lights
Strobe lights, street lights

[Chorus]

Buy U Music
(to the beat of Keri Hilson‟s “Buyou”)

One for the paper
Two for the money

I don‟t know whats going on baby
What the hell is going wrong baby
Used to take me to dinner
Used to take me shopping now you asking me for my paper
It‟s my money, boy my money
Bet you never get another dime from me
No, you can‟t use the phone baby
I think you need to get your own
Was looking for a man to hold me down
But how‟d I end up with you?
Yeah, baby, you
And as hard as I try sometimes it gets hard paying all these bills
The note on the car
So I don‟t need no broke broke boy tryna holla
So baby shut it up til you show me the dollars

Chorus:
One for the paper
Two for the money
Brand new bags, new shoes yeah I want it
All my girls, fly girls getting money
All my girls, fly girls getting money

One for the paper
Two for the money
Nails did, hair did
Yep yeah I want it

One for the paper
Two for the money
All my girls, fly girls getting money

Nope, I ain‟t checkin for you broke ass niggas
Kim only checking for the dope boy niggas
No no no I‟m not a go-gold digger
I‟m just tryna say I got my own dough nigga
Deuce mills, you know the grown folks nigga
Niggas like Scott, they got they own boat nigga
No middle man, have yo own coke nigga
Title to the do‟s, have yo own car nigga
Can‟t pay my rent with yo compliments
And I don‟t need a man with no accomplishments
No whip, no job, no credit
Me and you is like alzheimers, forget it
If you were my sugar, I‟d be diabetic
Yo game like an old book and I already read it
It‟s money on my mind and you just a headache
I need a man with a full package like FedEx

Kim, little bitches
MAFIA, the Bella
Money old like champagne in the cellar
Boy you need to split
Like a cigarillo
You ain‟t treatin me like an ATM teller
So fuck a little cheese
I got my own cheddar
So when I make it rain
I open up my umbrella
Dior glass slippers
Call me Cinderella
Yo bank like these new artist
Underdeveloped

[Chorus]

				
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