[Kool Keith]
They try to say California is plastic
I think New York got the most plastic niggaz too
Fuck all you niggaz comin out to the Soul Train Awards
with them pop ass headsets - around your ears like Britney Spears
That's some old Bobby Brown and New Edition shit
That's some old REAL Michael Jackson shit
I'm comin with Crazy Vic
Let me hear you tryin to copy my shit

Fuck the impact eventually
cause there's a lot of corny niggaz performin out there
Fat stomachs, make-up and eye glare
What the fuck do I care?
Niggaz with they ass out
Groupies in cheap motels tryin to fuck and crash out
Motherfuckers ain't networkin
Strippers checkin in - motherfuckers on motorcycles
Pickup trucks with licens
Too Lonely lyrics

Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love
Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love.

I got a key chain
Good luck charm
I drive a fast car
Got a strong arm.

Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love
Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love.

She's got the big lips
She'
e plates on 'em
Bringin mad shit from down South
Big after-parties I'ma turn my phone off
I don't wanna shake hands, meet no-fuckin-body, arrogant bastard
No commercial shit, break your neck, suck my dick in the world
Fuck the critics everything I make is a hit
Fuck you applehead motherfuckers tryin to make some old
carribean mixed with that Trinity keyboard shit
Hip-Hop shit, that's some old Broadway musical shit
I don't even listen to that cartoon shit
Tell your A&R and his wife to get out my fuckin life

27 shots!  {*BLAM BLAM BLAM*}
27 shots!  {*BLAM BLAM BLAM*}
27 shots!  {*BLAM*}

Shut up; listen to my shit cause yo' cassette single is gay
Writin that bullshit I hear on the radio by these homo niggaz everyday
Butter soft 
What Was I Thinking lyrics

The word that I heard was so absurd 
I can't believe it slipped from my lips 
The tongue with which it was sung was so dumb [2x]
I wish to pull it from my skull 

What the fuck was I thinking [8x]
issy shit
I got the real tell it like it is pissy shit
Yo' shit is some fake-ass gorilla code shit
White suits mansion yachts scared-ass nigga
Doin videos buyin models on some boat shit
I tell you straight G I can't fuck with it
Girls still messin with you; your shit is wack
Any bitch in they right mind shouldn't have sex wit you
Rusty nigga that don't use soap
I fuck around, and piss all over your leather faggot-ass trenchcoat
Don't ever act hardcore
Youse a suburban nigga, you get serviced nigga
You never even been in a fuckin street fight
Look at your old photo album pictures - youse a bunch of hype
Kiss my ass, nobody picked up the fuckin mic
Untalented bitch like you some wild ass
inner-city kid from the projects - who's n
Ms. Jackson lyrics


[Andre 3000]
Yeah this one right here goes out to all the baby's mamas, mamas...
Mamas, mamas, baby mamas, mamas
Yeah, go like this

[CHORUS: Andre 3000]
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (OOOH)
I am for real
Never meant to make your daughter cry
I apologize a trillion times
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (OOOH)
I am fo
xt?

27 shots!  {*BLAM BLAM BLAM*}
27 shots!  {*BLAM BLAM BLAM*}
27 shots!  {*BLAM*}

Then I really disrespect all production out there
That bullshit niggaz programmin, fuck Johnny Hammond
Sonny Stitch, that shit ain't gettin you rich
Just a packed crowd, low bitches, a bunch of fuckin dicks
I'd rather see some ass, a nice club with a fat ass
And all you motherfuckers actin like you Jamaican
American to the core, copyin that shit on tour
Y'all niggaz be against speakers with your ears sore
Stank ass boots with no socks on, fuckin up the dancefloor
Since when you ate codfish and meat patties?
I got cousins with jheri curls in caddies

27 shots!  {*BLAM BLAM BLAM*}
27 shots!  {*BLAM BLAM BLAM*}
27 shots!  {*BLAM BLAM BLAM*}