Grip Grand Jive Turkeys
What a messy fuss, it happens to the best of us
Love/hate to raise the heart rate up to your chest to bust
And leave you with just enough stress to cuss
Ooh trouble, two's a couple, three's treacherous
And got you open like the high seas
Hoping like deez for the squeeze on live G's
Jive turkeys, they lucky if they survive the depths of hell, it's murky
Jerky, come on work with me
See how she's twerking the skirt with tits perky
A flirt with a smirk that could body you in one shot glance
And let 'em rot, I'm like, not a chance, hot pants!"
Run feet, and keep from off front street
That sizzle like the blunt heat, with business that's for under sheets
Creep on secret missions, peep it
Or else be in some deep shit, with more fishes to sleep with
