Bonnie N Clyde 2005 lyrics

[Intro: Remy Ma]
Here it comes yeah (That b*tch)
Here it comes yeah
Here it comes yeah (Rem)
Here it comes yeah (That n*gga)
Here it comes yeah (Pap)
Here it comes yeah (Okay)
Here it comes yeah (You asked for it)

[Verse 1: Remy Ma]
See I be on some other sh*t
Like f*ck your dead mother sh*t
Disrespect ya whole character
Call you by your government
I don't know what these b*tches think you ugly and ya pus*y stink
Ya whole flow is borrowed
Stole everything but the kitchen sink
See you just mad b*tch
And you suck mad di*k
My sh*t is fire I does my own atlas
With no practice
I spit backwards backwards Spits
I practice no atlas
And n*ggas should call you frying pan
Your face is like a frying pan
And n*ggas throw there meat in you
You burn 'em like a frying pan
I ain't lying man
See yall don't really want it
I got these b*tches scared to death
They know the album comin'
[Interlude: Remy Ma]
Yeap see slate?
This is why I told you
I can not do mixtapes
I just be talkin' f*ckin' reckless
It's crazy! (Hahaha...)

[Verse 2: Remy Ma]
And I ain't gotta force it
My sh*t come natural
You don't want me on every mixtape
As if I was Papoose
Exposin' all your skeleton
Straight gettin' atchu
Tellin' everybody I'mma f*ck you up
When I catch you
Kow what I'm talkin' 'bout
I'm what a thug about
Tella n*gga I'm frontin' so the squad can slaught em out
My brand new whipps and gut 'em out
Then come back with some different sh*t
Lookin' like it's it but just pimp my sh*t
I'm that b*tch and ain't no chick seein' me
Y'all b*tches need to step ya rap game up immediately
I'm talkin' like f*ckin' last year like last decade (Hahahahaha)
[Interlude: Papoose & Remy Ma]
Yeah, graduated from mixtapes now
(Somethin' about Remy n*gga)
Got the mixtape award and all that, yo
(Album comin')
Check me out!

[Verse 3: Papoose]
I ain't recognize Remy when I seen her in the night club
We got the industry addicted, we like drugs
I done pop Chris Stall Dawn Pareone
Not a drunk Alazate The Dawns very calm
The wild out the drunk Henny Rum
That's why I say
East Coast pop a bottle with chall
Alotta chicks be burnin' like drinkin' some Vodka
Tried to tell me she a virgin like Piña colada
Casket creamed it up beam away Shawn Dawnin
But none of dat could f*ck with a bottle of Remy Martin
Now I done smoke purple haze
Smoke chocolats I smoke hydro
All types of la la la smoke straights all blazed up
Puff passed do but none of dat can f*ck with
A pound of Papoose
n*ggas wanna clap me up leave me holy
I marijuana in the flesh
Alotta n*ggas wanna smoke me
I done moved good dope
Move straight coke
sh*t so pure look like it came off the boat
I done moved hard crack it's alotta DJ's
But none of y'all could f*ck with a kilo of Kay Slay
My work would drop bomb he rap from the cops
He drop my whole bomb talkin' every single rock
I told him no everything 'bout it
Cause my single was hot
Flex droppin' more bombs then the worker on the block
Rapology supreme philosophies the thing
You could call me Mr. Not so Remeadream
Remy look good in person
Just like she do in the magazines
So I'mma stay close to Ms. Martin like Dr. King
Never used to like drop tops
But he think he flossin'
So I'm 'bout to have more dropps then weak fossetts
He don't wanna lean back
Slay hand me the tourists
Hit him in the back of his head
And make him lean forward
[Echo:]
Papoose Papoose Papoose Papoose...