Gossip Folks (feat. Ludacris)

Lyricist: WILLIAM A BLOOM, CHRISTOPHER BRIDGES, CHRISTOPHER BRIAN BRIDGES, MELISSA A ELLIOTT, TIMOTHY Z MOSLEY    Composer: WILLIAM A BLOOM, CHRISTOPHER BRIDGES, CHRISTOPHER BRIAN BRIDGES, MELISSA A ELLIOTT, TIMOTHY Z MOSLEY

Yo, yo yo move out of the way, we got missy Elliott coming through
Girl that is missy Elliott she lost a lot of weight, girl I heard she eats one cracker a day
Oh well I heard the bitch was married to Tim and started fucking with Trina
I heard the bitch got hit with three zebras and a monkey, I can't stand the bitch no way

When I walk up in the piece, I ain't gotta even speak
I'm a bad mamajama goddammit motherfucker you ain't gotta like me
How you studying these hoes, need to talk what you know
And stop talking bout who I'm sticking and licking jus mad it ain't yours
I know ya'll poor ya'll broke, ya'll job jus hanging up clothes
Step to me get burnt like toast, Muthafuckas adios amigos
Halves halves wholes wholes, I don't brag I mostly boast
From the VA to the LA coast, Iffy kiffy izzy oh

Millze cillzan sillzome plilzay dilzzouble dilzutch
Hilzzoo? My gizzirl! Brillzing her izzin
Izzo kizzay! Izzall rizzight
Izzo kizzay! Izzall rizzight! Nizzow wizzee wilzzo-izzo-zee

When I pull up in my whip, bitches wanna talk shit
I'm driving I'm glad and I'm styling in these muthafuckas eyes did you see it?
I'm gripping these curbs, skuur, did ya heard
I love em, my fellas, my furs, I fly like a bird
Chicken heads on the prowl, who you trying fuck now
Naw you ain't getting loud, better calm down for I smack your ass down
I need my drums, bass, high hats has to be my snare strings horns and
I need my Tim sound, right, left, Izzy kizzy looky here

Millze cillzan sillzome plilzay dilzzouble dilzutch
Hilzzoo? My gizzirl! Brillzing her izzin
Izzo kizzay! Izzall rizzight
Izzo kizzay! Izzall rizzight! Nizzow wizzee wilzzo-izzo-zee

I don't go out my house shorty, you just waiting to see
Who gon roll up in the club and then report that next week
Just wanna see who I am fucking boy, sniffing some coke
I know by the time I finish this line I'm a hear this on the radio

Once upon a time in College Park, where they live life fast and they scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris, nobody paid him any mind
No one gave a shit, knowing he could rap
No one lifted a hands so he went about his business and devised a plan
Made a CD and then he hit the block, 50 thousand sold seven dollars a pop
Hold the phone, three years later, stepped out the swamp with ten and a half gators
All around the world on the microphone, leaving the booth smelling like Burberry cologne
Still riding chrome, got bitches in the kitchen, never home alone and he's on the grind
Please let me know if he's on your mind, and respect you'll give me
Ludacris I live loud just like Timmy, fuck, have to clear these rumors
I got a headache and it's not a tumor, get up on my lap and get my head sucked tight
Sprayed so I never let the bed bugs bight, hard to the core
Core to the rotten, drop down turn around pick a bail of cotton (ya)

Millze cillzan sillzome plilzay dilzzouble dilzutch
Hilzzoo? My gizzirl! Brillzing her izzin
Izzo kizzay! Izzall rizzight
Izzo kizzay! Izzall rizzight! Nizzow wizzee wilzzo-izzo-zee

Yo, straight up Missy killed that shit tonight for real
I know I know, I don't even care about her being preganant by Michael Jackson
No you know what we should do
We should go get her album when it come out
There she go, there she go, there she Hiiiii Misssy

Hi Missy? What's up fools? You think I aint knowin yall broke Milli Vanilli
J.J. Fad wannabes aint over here gossiping bout me?
Yo how bout you buff these Pumas for 20 cents so your lights wont get cut off
You soggy breasts, cow stomachs, yo take those baby GAP shirts off, too
You just mad cuz Payless ran out of plastic pumps for the after party
Yo by the way, go get my album, damn