Do or Die Sex Appeal Lyrics

Whoa
And ya got that sex appeal

She had a walk too sassy
Approachin' with a dog that looked like Lassie
The lipstick, and the Fendi, Prada
Kinda lookin' all classy
Psychological tendency, proto-call
Just lookin' at the article
Weed smell on my Prada clothes
Sometimes, I trip on myself
How I spit at these modern ho's
On the two-way, poppin' and droppin' the conversation
And I'm steady staggerin'
Look at the Remy that I had last week off Madison
Tryna walk a straight line
But I can't find a pattern in her
I looked at the door
Put my drink on the floor
Cocked my nine when I opened it slow
Half-breed Chinese, sittin' a Lac
And about a hash green, plus
The audacity of the star
Strippin' and maneuver her *** like next to me
Actually, this S-E-X is testin' me
A-double-P, E-A-L
And it sound like her body is callin' me
But it might be the alcohol in me
And the sex appeal, it keep on drawin' me

Sex, sex, appeal
I'm talkin' bout sex appeal
Sex, sex, appeal
Her body keep callin' me, whoa
Sex, sex, appeal
I'm talkin' 'bout sex appeal, girl, whoa right
Sex, sex, appeal, whoa-ah

I'm finna get her off, high Hydro
Bump a crown from mista porch
Hey there lil' mama
Do you wanna come kick your heels
In the back of my Range Rove?
Wanna do what'chu did before?
Don't trip, cause "You Already Know"
C-O-M-E-B-E-W-I-X-T, that me, Belo
Just do it "Nice And Slow"
You gotta raise the door
And I don't pay for show
'Cause I don't pay fo-sho
You can grab yo' kicks and go
Put on yo (shh), let's roll
Recognize the G, true ballin'
Do or die, pimp or die, not fallin'
When we all in, yo club
Chillin' with the chiefs and the dubs
And I got love for the jiggaboos
Pop Chrys' with the *****s, and the *****es too
Dig a ***** out the Grove, like I just do
People say I'm like a statue
Spit the B in yo ear
Take you off to the real, and I match you
Sex appeal

Sex, sex, appeal
I'm talkin' bout sex appeal
Sex, sex, appeal
Her body keep callin' me, whoa
Sex, sex, appeal
I'm talkin' 'bout sex appeal, girl, whoa right
Whoa-ah, na, na, na

Go kick it wit' my *****s in the drop Regal
Do what, a Twista, Caddy, Po-Pimp sequel
On my way to the club, peek-a-boo **********a
But first I gotta roll one, for my people
Hate us for doin' that, saw us
Through Windy City, nightcrawlers
Who would have imagined lyricals on the legacy?
Cities legendary like, Rap-A-Lot and Legit Ballaz
****, let the Mo' pop, and drop the top
Ride like it's summertime in the Chi
Get'chu blind, to the abra
Blowin' lime to the sky
Rhyme til' I die, tryin' to get by
Lil' miss, lookin' tight in the coochie
Whether it's a Gucci
Love the way you do the jiggy when you walk
Soundin' like you freaky, girl, every time you talk
I know ya aura make the fellas wanna break 'em off
Hear me brotha?
Gotta try to get our feet further
Hit a lic' and feed, one-another
'Cause all we got is, each-other
I take it week after week
And to kick the flows that I freak but, uh
Roll up on a chick and spit game
Let me show you how the back seat of a Lexus feel
Take a hit of cess and chill
Girl, dressed to kill
Whippin' that sex appeal
Next appeal?

Sex, sex, appeal (whoa)
I'm talkin' bout sex appeal, hey
Sex, sex, appeal
Said her body keep
Sex, sex, appeal (callin', callin', callin' me)
Sex, sex, appeal (callin', callin', callin' me)
Sex appeal, sex, sex appeal
Sex appeal, sex appeal (talkin' about)
Sex appeal, sex, sex appeal (oh yeah)
Sex appeal, sex appeal (bring it on, bring it on)

Said ya body just callin' me
And ain't nothin' like an orgy
Back it all, girl (aah-aah)
'Cause a brotha just (aah-aah)
I'm fallin in love with her
Yes I am, yes I am
Yes I am
Whoa-ah
Said I'm still right here
Lookin' it at your heart closed
Checkin' out that Prada coat
Hmm, mmm, mmm

Written by: Frederick Taylor, Darnell Smith, Dennis Round, Carl Mitchell
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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