Slap! Slap! Slap! lyrics

by

Method Man & Redman


[Intro: Missy Elliott]
Something you can dance to
Ooh, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah

[Verse 1: Missy Elliott]
Me and my clique
Run through the gutters, breakin' down shutters
As the beats go, dun-dun-dun-dutta
Ain't nothing better than these flavor buttas
It's like freakin' with your lovers tryna bust his rubba'
Have him, have him undercover like he thought he never
How the hell a b*tch like me become so clever?
Y'all whack MC's, y'all never, never
Talkin' hard as a c*ck but as light as a feather
Y'all suspect hoes, y'all suspect hoes
Takin' off y'all clothes, y'all reject hoes
Y'all feel the rhythm, I'm 'bout to kill 'em

[Chorus: Missy Elliott & Timbaland]
Slap, slap, slap
Right across your melon, easy
n*gga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy
[Verse 2: Missy Elliott]
Y'all little (Uh-huh)
Tryna act bigger, don't you get the picture? (Uh-huh)
Every freakin' year I come with something sicker (Sicker)
Fans takin' flicks, wanna get my picture (Uh-huh)
Freaks only speak, "Do you know Jigga?" (Uh-huh)
Strange mother****** tryna be my n*gga (Uh-huh)
Turned your man to an ass-licker (Uh)
Cheatin' ass men, these cheatin' ass men (Uh)
Time to stop gamin' and stay the f*ck in (Uh)
You feel the rhythm, I'm 'bout to kill 'em

[Chorus: Da Brat, Missy Elliott & Timbaland]
Smack, smack, smack
Right across your melon, pronto
Huh, I said, smack, smack, smack
Right across your melon, pronto (Uh)

[Verse 3: Da Brat]
You don't wanna get smacked right quick
Wit' a upper cut, tight fist
I don't give a f*ck if you don't like this
Still get paid to bust the right sh*t
Still get paid when I hop on the di*k
Not a prostitute, I gotta a lot of loot
But if you knock the boots, at least cop the coupe
What I'm s'posed to do? Starve for you
This ain't sparkle n*gga, I can't crawl for you
That's impossible
I make the rules
I pay the dues
I wear the pants
Bought the shoes, they Prada too
f*ck with me, you lose
Step to me and get bruised
Your chances are not few, they none
So what I'm b*tchy?
Roll a fat blunt wit' Missy in the front wit' me
Tim' hit me, ow, with the bang to the boogie the beat
Burnin' 'em wit the heat
It don't concern me, when n*ggas talk sh*t
They just wanna learn me
When they see me, I permanently damage they sh*t internally
And slap, slap, slap 'em right across the melon (Haha)
[Chorus: Timbaland]
n*gga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy (Easy)

[Verse 4: Ms. Jade]
I'm the M-S-J-A-D-E
Toes and lows, bling like I'm B.G
I don't need you n*ggas help, sh*t, I write my own
Gimme a beat and a muthaf*ckin' microphone
Picture this sh*t, me, Missy and Timbaland
Was 'bout to take it to the streets, but the chicken ran
Oh sh*t, it's gettin kinda hot in here
Oh sh*t, make n*ggas stop and stare
Talk dirty, rock-a-bye a birdy
Smack the sh*t out of Clyde 'cause Bonnie should've paid me
Get old heads for they checks that sign right
And I get lil' boys for they dough on prom night
'Cause I do my thing, knots in a pocket
Smack, smack, smack
All up in your noggin, early
I said, smack, smack, smack
All up in your noggin

[Chorus: Timbaland]
n*gga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy
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