[bad word] 
 Crocodile on my feet
 Fox fur on my back
 Bowtie 'round my neck
 That's why they call me the gangsta mack
 In the Cadillac! Yeah!

 Nasty Noompsy Knightingale
 Fresh in that tuxedo
 Cumberbun with no suspenders
 My torpedo, you libido
 Need to chat (Chip, chop it up, shoot the breeze!)
 I'm your are-o-l-a-I-d-s, release the squeeze or release the keys
 To the shackles on her wrist, she can tackle some of this
 Smack on smack on some of this **** Tracy
 Arrest her, book her, fingerprint your hooker
 You took her to the club and now her body is full of liquor
 Off that Butterscotch Schnapps and Bailey's Irish Cream
 She's a damsel in distress impressed with stylish things
 What ya mean? (Chip, chop it up, shoot the breeze!)
 In the parking lot we primp, crooked booty to the scene where I's

 [bad word] 

 Oh, lord! How can it be so hard??
 To put on a pair of panties much less a pair of jeans or the leotard
 But I got to start [bad word] you on your physique
 You unique, you best believe I'm gon' skeet once I speak
 Spoke, spit, spatter, spat and I macked her just like that
 But it takes years of perseverance and experience to get that cat!
 So why don't I chase this Hennessy down with some of that
 On your back, like a cheerleader missing the final stack!
 As we [bad word] skip the line through the glass window glance
 We look fine, right on time
 As we step in the place the nursery's [bad word] [bad word] to play

 Everybody's watching 'cause them furs just hit the door
 While the gator's creeping, crawling oh so wicked across that floor
 To the V.I.P. where we proceed to give you what you need
 Throw your hands up if you feel me!! Throw your hands up if you feel me!!
 'Cause we well designed and fine as wine
 Feel good to be fly, so don't you ask me why
 I got the ladies in line, because they can't deny
 So raise your hands to the sky 'cause we super fly

 [bad word]