Oh Boy lyrics

by

George Clinton


[Intro: Cam'ron]
Just Blaze (Oh baby)
Oh baby (Uh)
Killa

[Verse 1: Cam'ron]
All the girls see the (Boy), look at his kicks (Boy)
Look at his car (Boy), all I say is (Oh boy)
Look, mami, I'm no good, I'm so hood
Clap at your soldiers sober, then leave after it's over, Killa
I'm not your companion, or your man's stand-in
Hit me when you wanna get rammed in, I'll be scramblin' (That's right)
With lots of mobsters, shop for lobsters
Cops and robbers, listen, every block is blaka (Blaka)
But she like the way I diddy bop, you peep that? (Oh, you peep that, right?)
Mink on, Mauri kicks, plus Chanel ski hat
She want the (Boy), so I give her the (Boy)
Now she screamin' out (Boy, boy, boy, boy), Killa, Killa
Now she playin' with herself, Cam dig it out, lift her up
Ma, it's just a f*ck, girl, get it out, pick on up
They want the boy Montana with guns with bandanas
Listen to my homeboy Santana

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
Y'all n*ggas can't f*ck with the (Boy), I'm tellin' ya (Boy)
Put a shell in ya (Boy), now he bleedin' (Oh boy)
Get him, call his (Boy), he wheezin', he need his (Boy)
He screamin' (Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Damn, shut up (Boy), he's snitchin' (Oh boy)
This n*gga's b*tchin' (Boy), he's twisted (Oh boy)
If feds was listenin' (Boy), damn, whoa, whoa, come on
I'm in trouble, need bail money, sh*t
Where the f*ck is my (Boy)? I got trust for my (Boy)
That's why I f*ck with my (Boy), that's my n*gga (Oh boy)
He gon' come get his (Boy), he got love for his (Boy)
That's my (Boy, boy, boy, boy) uh-huh, uh-huh
[Verse 3: Cam'ron]
When he got caught with the (Boy), we went to court for the (Boy)
Just me and my (Boy), and we sayin' (Oh boy)
Be on the block with my (Boy) with the rock or the (Boy)
When the cops come— Squalie!
Yeah, this is for the sports cars
Bonita's, Jimmy's, PJ's, old school, eighteenth at the sports bar
Eight or nine on the (Boy)
Holla at your boy (Boy, boy, boy, boy), Killa, holla, listen
It's the D-I-P (Boy) plus the R-O-C (Boy)
You'll be D-O-A (Boy), your moms will say (Oh boy)
sh*t, ain't no stoppin' 'em, guns, we got a lot of 'em (Boy, boy, boy, boy, sh*t)
Matter of fact, Guru start poppin' 'em
Then slap up his (Boy), clap up his (Boy)
Wrap up his (Boy), get them gats (Oh boy)
Diplomats are them (Boy) for the girls and the (Boy)
Say (Boy, boy, boy, boy), yeah, yeah

[Verse 4: Juelz Santana]
Now when they see Cam and his (Boy), they say damn (Oh boy)
Santana's that (Boy) that squeeze hammers (Oh boy)
Cannons and bandanas, blammers, we don't brandish (Boy, boy, boy)
Blam at your man's canvas, then scram with your man's leaded
And I'm back with my (Boy)

[Verse 5: Cam'ron]
Until that man is vanished
Away in the Grand Canyon, these kids are grand standin'
n*ggas demand ransom over them grams scramblin'
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Well, f*ck it, Van Damme 'em, Cam'll blam blam 'em
Call up his (Boy), I'm down south tannin'
Mami, I got the remedy, Tommy's up at the enemy
Homi's and bodies, but now my body, you're feelin' finicky
Killa and Capo, we chill in Morocco for reala
We got dough, chinchilla dough and fill with them hollows, huh
It's the (Boy)
I said, it's the (Boy)
I'm the (Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Killa
[Outro]
Boy
Oh boy
Boy
Oh boy
Boy, boy, boy
Boy, boy, boy, boy
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