Ras Kass Get At Me Lyrics

Rasassination Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Endtro
  • 2 Rasassination
  • 3 Ghetto Fabulous
  • 4 Lapdance
  • 5 (Skit #1)
  • 6 Conceited Bastard
  • 7 Ice Age
  • 8 ...In A Coogi Sweatsuit (skit)
  • 9 H2OProof
  • 10 It Is What It Is
  • 11 Interview With a Vampire
  • 12 Wild Pitch
  • 13 OohWee!
  • 14 All or Nuthin'
  • 15 Grindin'
  • 16 I Ain't Fuckin' With You
  • 17 Get At Me
  • 18 The End
  • Damn nigga, what's wrong wit you

    [Ras Kass]

    (I reign) I reign more cop than Johnny
    Sippin' tanquery with o.j.
    Sportin' bruno mali
    Not guilty but filthy
    Smellin' like Chritstian Dior
    Infiniti QX4, gimme yours
    Of course, sinnin
    Swimmin' in the abdomen of pretty women
    Love to love ya, like Timbaland
    When in the endin
    Like three strikes in the ninth inning
    I rock satin boxers, cotton socks and denim
    The game he kick, special teams couldn't return
    Got you wild like a texturizer
    Burn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a geyser
    Sosa, kosher, nostra, like keyser
    And got a thing for rehabilitating hood-rats
    Who keep their hair and nails done
    And they legs waxed
    I peep that, you got a man, but you want a homie
    Love a friend, my sentiments exactly
    Get at me

    chorus [Karida Johnson]

    I like your style, can we kick it, oh wow
    Baby, so you can get at me

    [Ras Kass] I got no game, It's just the women Understand my story

    I got a man, but we can still be friends
    So you can get at me, baby, baby-bay, baby

    Verse Two

    Some things make you happy just to be alive
    Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe
    Drive, like hitting two-twenty-five
    In the pin with no spot
    I survive drama and then know when to lick shots
    Keep a top notch just a phone call away from my crotch
    Never brought sand to the beach
    Cause these streets is baywatch (true)
    You know how we do
    Satin lingerie I see through
    Now she barely even kiss you
    Leaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I miss you boo)
    Your chicken-head wife was poultry
    Undersexed and sultry
    That's the rhyme and reason why we committed adultery
    I swear, womens love from bel-air to welfare
    Chalkin' up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air
    Her momma shoulda named her Casino
    She got the liquor in the front
    Poke her in the rear


    Verse Three

    You know my steez though
    Dark skin and creole, I'm 'bout it
    Just without the Master P dough
    But see though, my tax bracket decent and increasin
    Make no mistake
    You cant get a slice if you don't bake the cake
    To reverse trick
    My silly ex-bitch transport brick
    For twenty percent - commission
    She dressed up with no where to go
    While I'm blowin up your dress like Marilyn Monroe
    For show, at my girl party, flowin
    But I think she caught me like a nazi
    Now I'm servin', she got me under surveilence
    Like John Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low
    Actin' straight Illuminati
    Don't get mad, I'm only being honest
    It's Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras)
    You promise
    Then freak me, slightly below the hips
    And blow me a kiss with your pussy lips
    Get at me


    Get at me
    Lyrics © OBO APRA/AMCOS

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