Lyrics Queen Latifah – Name Callin’
Text:
Chorus
Name callin hasn’t fallen into what I’m runnin
I wouldn’t dis another sista ‘less she had it comin
Name callin hasn’t fallen into what I’m runnin
Queen Latifah
Hold my Heineken, ‘Pache, I’m ’bout to catch a charge
Bitches that think they hard get snuff, FUCK a bodyguard
They need to shut the fuck up or step to me!
All they could do is be mad at me — bitch, don’t threaten me!
Niggaz don’t know I’m nice with these (nice with theses)
You paid the price with these, come by this Pisces, your life cease
You couldn’t see me if you looked at (My Life) like Mary
Your style is cheesy; how you want beef? You dairy
Better be wary, cause if it’s necessary
We shoot the joints, I’ll leave ya somethin for the tooth fairy
And all y’all rappers sellin more sex than skills (y’all gotsta…) CHILL
I’ll rip ya style, all the while, keep my sex appeal
Don’t get it twisted yo, I never really favored you
And I was raised by my niggaz from the Flavor U (Flavor Unit!)
So FUCK givin props where they ain’t due
Fuck you, AND that nigga who wrote the rhyme for you, too (Don’t go there..)
I get hot, when you play my spot you get laid like rugs
And you’ll NEVER be the woman that your father was
Stop flirtin with my last nerve and head South
Next bitch say somethin, I’m goin in your mouth! (Get ’em, Lah!)
Chorus
Queen Latifah
Another bitch after my crown, but I don’t hate her
cause she couldn’t come up if she was gettin fucked on the elevator
Thought I was yo’ fuckin friend?! See you and speak? Tonight, all that shit ends
Don’t act extra, where you from?
I post on low income, I did some, ready to leave your gums numb
Listenin to you is like wack sex, or premature ejectulation
or quickie that gets me stressed
You doin it but it don’t thrill me — BITCH, you know you feel me!
Don’t get scared now, time to face the real me (word up!)
I’m ready to break my FOOT off in your anal
Ready to bring you some pain yo, comin up with that plain ol’
style you stole, tried to mix it up and make it blend
Soundin like Lauryn, with a dash of Lil’ Kim
We know, bootleg, Korean-coppin schemin hoe
I know it’s bootleg cause they misspelled Moschino (It says «Maskino»!)
What’s worse, ya press-on, terror gear
I should buy ya contract, put ya ass on HOLD for another year
You picked the wrong one, so bring yo’ clique
Now we can handle this like ladies, or get into some ol’ other shit
Chorus
Nikki D
Nikki kill it like rappers be on some bandwagon shit, but I gets Boogie quick
Fit with lyrics, from toastin too many spirits
Fuck all these cheesy-bum bitches fakin these riches
Niggaz representin for these real live jiggas
’96, what the deal? Chicks pimpin they sex appeal
(What you stupid?!) How you feel? Got the steel now, dead up in your grill
‘Bout to go up in you raw, saw you industry whore
Never saw the life before, now you modelin flaws
Overload ya whole dome piece, when I rock shit like this
You can’t flip, cause jiggaboos be gettin twisted
All that hot shit that you be smokin got you buggin
Think that you can step to my crew? We be nuts smugglin
Ha! Turnin RUFF niggaz into bitches like WHAT?