Hey mama (non-video) Lyrics
Hey mama (non-video) Lyrics |
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Hey mama (non-video) Lyricsby Black Eyed Peas Buy album CD: Other Songs 8 - L La la la la la... Hey mama This that shit that make you groove mama Get on the floor and move your booty mama We the Blast Masters blastin' up the jamma(fade) ~REEEWIIIIND~ Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty Shake that thing ,and now, the City of Sin and, Hey shorty, I know you wanna party and The way your body look it make me really feel naughty Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty Shake that thing ,and now, the City of Sin and, Hey shorty, I know you wanna party and The way your body look it make me really feel naughty I got a naughty, naughty style and a naughty, naughty crew But I everything I do, I do just for you I'm a little bit of old, and a bigger bit of new The true niggas know that the Peas come through And never cease (NOo..) We never die no we never decease(NOo..) We multiply like we mathmatice, And then drop bombs like we in the middle east (the bomb-bommas, the bass boom-drummas) Now y'all know, who we are Y'all know, we the stars Steady rockin' hard on y'all's boulevards And lookin' hard without body guards I do, what I can Double-U, L. I am And still I stand, with still mic in hand So come on mama, dance to the drumma Hey mama This that shit that make you groove mama Get on the floor and move your booty mama We the Blast Masters blastin' up the jamma So shake your bumbumma c'mon now mama This that shit that make you groove mama Get on the floor and move your booty mama We the Blast Masters blastin' up the jamma So shake your bumbumma c'mon now mama La la la la la We the big town-stompas and big sound-pumpas, The beat bump-bumps all in your trunk-trunkas, The girlies in the club got the plump-lump-blumpas, And when I'm makin' love then my hip hump-humps, And never quits (NOo..) No need to carry nine millimeter clips (NOo..) Don't wanna squeeze trigger Just wanna squeeze tits (lubba-lubba) 'Cause we the show-stoppas And the Chief-rockas, #1 chief-rockas Now y'all know, who we are Y'all know, we the stars Steady rockin' hard on y'all's boulevards How we rockin' it girl? Without body guards She be, Fergie From the crew, B.E.P. C'mon take heed, as we take the lead So come on bubba, dance to the drumma Hey mama This that shit that make you groove mama Get on the floor and move your booty mama We the Blast Masters blastin' up the jamma (NOo..NOo..) Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty Shake that thing ,and now, the City of Sin and, Hey shorty, I know you wanna party and The way your body look it make me really feel naughty But the race is not for the Swiss, But for who can insure it And Tippa Irie and the Black eyed Peas will be there... Til infinity, Til infinity, Til infinity, Til infinity, Til infinity, Black all out... Nosa dima shock, Nosa Dima thing Everything I sing them, appear bling-bling Oh what a thing, hear mackalin, Grinding and Winding And the madda they be movin' a perfect timing and they dance and dance to the dance all redeem And the way that you dance, its finger-lickin' Like rice and peas and chicken stuffing Hey mama This that shit that make you groove mama Get on the floor and move your booty mama We the Blast Masters blastin' up the jamma So shake your bumbumma c'mon now mama This that shit that make you groove mama Get on the floor and move your booty mama We the Blast Masters blastin' up the jamma So shake your bumbumma c'mon now mama La la la la la...
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