Da First Date lyrics

by

Pastor Troy


[Intro]
(Tastes good, tastes good, tastes good)
[Man:] So what's up with you right now?
[Girl:] What you mean what's up with me? What's up with you?
[Man:] I'm trying to find out what you want to do
[Girl:] I think I need to go home chill out, relax
[Man:] I think you need to go with me and lay down and relax with me
[Girl:] Naw it's too early for that
[Man:] Too early? I been thinking about it for a long time
[Girl:] But I just met you I don't do that...on the first date
[Man:] Been with a man you should have been doing it girl, what's wrong with
You?
[Girl:] What's wrong with you? You ain't getting none

[Verse 1: DJ Paul]
The sh*t started off real well
Real swell the b*tch was talking lovely
She got me scooping her from the crib say around 8:30
It'll be my first time hitting this b*tch I gotta work
I call me n*gga Big L for about two ounces to serve
I jumped in some kinda fresh smelling like is it me?
I'm thinking I know I'm anxious this b*tch is beeping me
This one right here is too wheezy I'm damn near scared of that
But I'ma let you boys know when I take care of that
I'm pulling up to the crib lights out
I hit her Nextel celli tell her to come on out
Stepping out of the crib sexy looking bad as hell
I'm knowing goddamn well I'm bout to get in that tail
So we pulled out first stop J&S liquor store
Don't you play no games young boy
You know that's where I gotta go
She talking about going back to my crib
But that ain't trying to happen
I changed the subject, poured another cup
And I kept on yapping
Jumped on the title of six hoping the hoe peeps game
Hickeys all over her neck so I know she got a man
I'm coming out can we f*ck? I'm on my period
b*tch the lies
So I dropped the trick off at the first stop sign
And I'ma holla hoe
[Chorus]
My conversates
I'm trying to f*ck on the first date
Weaving all on that oil but still you hesitate
I'm wasting time with this funk ass b*tch
Riding round with this drunk ass b*tch
Hoe let it bump

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Chicken chicken
Don't be tripping
When I'm bout to spit this pimping
Stacking cheese and counting up easy
Cause you know I'm into winning
Heard your n*ggas like a pigeon
Punk ass faggotts always switching
See that Lexus that he ride in
I got that strapped on my Wesson
Come on hoe and stop the fronting
Keep my di*k from jumping jumping
Take a shot of fifths and liquor
But I can't be buying nothing
Where I'm from I can't be saying
Cause I'm just to cheap for paying
Can't be hanging drinking drinking
With this guru what a behavior (moan)
Bout to ball the troops to college
Watching haters ow they be falling
Looking for the freaky freakys
That be chewing the di*k and swallowing
We can take a short'n riding
Through the cut to reach your housing
We can ride down to the river
While you work on using your mouth'n
Everybody know you going
Bet you probably saying oh no'n
Then I'm gonna teach you lessons
Stranglin all to death and rowing
And your sister know she with it
Cause she let me n*gga hit it
Then she get the licking licking
Then she have to pay to quit it
[Chorus(x2)]

[Verse 3: Lord Infamous]
b*tch I don't wanna just hold hands
And listen to slow jams
I'm not with that romance
Or candle light slow dance
Hoe why don't you take a chance?
Ain't like you ain't f*cked before
Come out those tight ass pants
Stop thinking that I won't call no more
Don't listen to the rumors that Lord will screw ya and sly
You wanna wine and dine
But don't wanna bump and grind
There's plenty hoes that wanna bone
So next time we don't get it on
The next time you phone
You gets a dial tone b*tch

[Verse 4: Koopsta Knicca]
There's many b*tches that's fine as f*ck
Tell me how many di*ks that they done sucked? (say what?)
Them pretty b*tches that like to suck
No telling, tell me how many n*ggas they done f*cked? (say what?)
One to the honey b*tch over in the corner
Two to the b*tch on the porch
Take 'em to the bathroom
di*k them in the f*cking moon
Make 'em 'til their toes rub on this side f*ck
What the f*ck you want though?
Could it be my back room door wide open
Naw you know that'd make me mad
The cheese in my pocket please for the head on the dash
Koopsta Knicca sleeping on the b*tch on the weekend weekend
[Chorus(x2)]
[DJ Paul:]
Hoe get up out my sh*t!
Ugly b*tch I ain't wanna f*ck your little stanking ass anyway b*tch
Only reason I man motherf*cking
Man took your motherf*cking ass and babysitted you all night b*tch
Cause my n*gga was trying to f*ck you
Motherf*cking dike ass greedy little ugly drunk
Stanking breath ass b*tch
Cigarette smoking ass hoe
Get the f*ck up out my car b*tch!
(Tastes good, tastes good, tastes good...)
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