A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Nick Cannon

"Ya Ya Ya"

[Intro:]
Ah, no
The fight's out
Somebody's about to get their lights knocked out
A little opera for ya

Capricorn, Cash Money
Nivea, Jive
Miss Nivea

[Chorus:]
Front with me like you's a real baller
And I be like yeah
Ya, ya, ya

With that other chicken trying to make me jealous
And I be like yeah
Ya, ya, ya

Getting all salty cause I'm hanging out
Yeah
Ya, ya, ya

All them loud words coming out your mouth
Boy, I be like yeah
Ya, ya, ya

[Verse 1: Nivea]
ATL where them pimps, ballers and the hustlers swell
I met a fly guy
Then we switched the cells
Under the influence
So I can hardly tell
If he was the one for me

Papi doing this
Papi doing that
Big thangs under the Cadillac

I'm tight, thoroughbred
Spread it like butter
Walk through the club
n*ggas be like what the

Shorty throwing money at me like he's a pitcher
Maybe on the weekend
Or something I get witcha

We did the damn thang
And you was all crazy
Now you want to pull me up like I'm your lady

[Repeat Chorus:]

[Verse 2: Nivea]
Hey ladies, what's the word?
Some of these cats got a lot of nerve
Trying to run game
But I'm about to serve
Gotta have dough cause I love to splurge
Gucci and Fendi

Come scoop me up on your motorcycle
Once we get alone
Then you can rock the result
And if you promise to treat me right
Boy, I guarantee
I keep this thing locked tight

You thugged out with a lot of loot
Sweetheart, I'm so proud of you
But I'm not going you break the rules
What you did to get it
You need to do to keep it

[Repeat Chorus:]

[Bridge: Nivea]
Hey
Can you feel the brand new day?
All my superstars came out to play
To see the thug child from around the way
This type of thing happens like every day

[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
I keep it real and intensive
Me no speak ya, ya
Cause my grill is expensive

Don't mean to be offensive
I know you probably run across a bunch of scrubs
With dis-functioned tongues
All in your mug
Talk a whole bunch umm

But me, I just want your love
Me, I'm bunch of thug
Big heart
But I punctured some
But I'm trying to patch it up with a bunch of hugs

For real
I ain't just talking whatever, Mami
We could get together and make a bunch of us
And I know a bunch of girls
Create a bunch of fuss
Over young wiz
But I'm getting at Niv, holla

Don't brother me with your yada
I'm good with little mama
And she good with big papa
I'm hood and she real proper

ATL Shorty
And New Orleans Don Dada
Anything else is ya, ya, ya

[Repeat Chorus x2:]

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
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