Let's get it on Stop beatin' 'round the bush C'mon, baby I've been sanctified I've been really tryin', baby Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long And if you feel like I feel, baby Then, c'mon, oh, c'mon Ah, baby, let's get it on

I’m reaching for the door And I don’t understand why it has to be this way Lock the door, me in the closet But it’s just too hard on me, oh So come back home Picture of you in my pocket It’s all I really have left of you And it’s not enough to keep me

I've been waitin' all night, lookin' for you headlights Go anywhere you wanna go I don't really need to know, if my heart is in danger 'Cause as long as you're the driver I was walking down this broken road I was stranded, I was all alone Always played

Ya know what I mean Busta Rhymes in the place y'all Let me tell ya a little something, Yeah, alright Busta 1995, this year I want One of them Crazy, Sexy-Cool women Ya know what I'm sayin' One of them real crazy, just sexy

The male Maleficent You don't know who you're messing with I ran for president 'Cause our country's in a deficit My only testament is that we keep it so surreal I'd kill myself to resurrect Kill myself to resurrect 'ey (And in the end, this may be the

Do we really know the way the wind blows? (Wind blows) Off in my head, lost off in my head Off in the red, dance, dance with the dead Are we really safe around our shadows? (Shadows) Through our windows Ooh, aw man, I can't believe this is happening (Ah

Either way we need to be happy Tell me, is this thing on? How do we keep it true? How do I keep you real to me, into me? Without it faking it, too What do we have to try? When everything is too loose 'Cause it always is just me and you That's the hardest

La, la, la, la La, la, laa (huh) This that him that's talking shit La, laa, la, laa Oh my god, Ronny Like a Quarter Pounder, I found her She with a boy think it's Ned Flanders She said that, really nice

Everybody wanna be a gangster (So you wanna be a gangster, homes?) 'Til it's time to do gangster shit You talk the talk, you better walk the walk, boy Shit just got real up in this bitch (Shit just got real) (Yeah- Put up or shut up) (Put up or shut up)

Can't really trust nobody with all this jewelry on you My roof look like a no-show, got diamonds by the boatload Damn, my AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad like Michael Come with the Tony Romo for clowns and all the bozos My AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad