Oh Boy (Radio Edit) Lyrics & Tabs by Cam'ron & Juelz Santana
Oh Boy (Radio Edit)
guitar chords lyrics
Just blaze, oh baby, uh, killa
(Oh baby)
All the girls see the look at his kicks
(Boy, boy)
Look at his car, all I say is
(Boy, oh boy)
Look mami, I'm no good, I'm so hood
Clap at your soldiers sober then leave after it's over
Killa, I'm not your companion or your man standin'
Hit me when you wanna get rammed in, I'll be scramblin'
With lots of mobsters shops for lobsters
Cops and robbers listen every block is blaka
(Blaka)
But she like the way I diddy bop you peeped that
Mink are maury kicks plus channel ski hat
(Blaka)
But she like the way I diddy bop you peeped that
Mink are maury kicks plus channel ski hat
She wasn't the, so I give her the
(Boy, boy)
Now she screamin' out
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Now she playin' with herself, Cam dig it out lift her up
Ma, it's just a fuck girl get it out pick on up
They wasn't the boy Montana with guns and bandannas
Listen to my homeboy Santana
Y'all niggas can't fuck with the, I'm tellin' ya
(Boy, boy)
Put a shell in ya, now he bleedin'
(Boy, oh boy)
Get him call his, he wheezin' he need his
(Boy, boy)
He screamin'
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Damn, shut up, he's snitchin'
(Boy, oh boy)
This nigga's bitchin', he's twistin'
(Boy, oh boy)
If feds was listenin' damn, whoa, damn
(Boy)
I'm in trouble need bail money, shit
Where the fuck is my I got trust for my
(Boy, boy)
That's why I fuck with my, that's my nigga
(Boy, oh boy)
He's gon' come get his, he got love for his
(Boy, boy)
That's my
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
When he got caught with the, we went to court for the
(Boy, boy)
Just me and my and we sayin'
(Boy, oh boy)
Be on the block with my with the ROC fella
(Boy, boy)
When the cops come squalin'
Yeah, this is for the sports cars, Benitas, Jimmy's
PJ's, old school, eighteenth at the sports bar
Eight or nine on the holla at your boy
(Boy)
Killa, holla, listen
It's the D-I-P plus the R-O-C
(Boy, boy)
You'll be D-O-A, your moms will say
(Boy, oh boy)
Shit ain't no stoppin' 'em, guns we got a lot of 'em
Shit, matter of fact, Guru, start poppin' 'em
Than slap up his, clap up his
(Boy, boy)
Wrap up his, get them gats
(Boy, oh boy)
Diplomats are them for the girls and the
(Boy, boy)
Say
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Now when they see cam and his, they say damn
(Boy, oh boy)
Santana's that, that squeeze hammers
(Boy, oh boy)
Canons and bandannas glammers we don't brandish
Blam at your man's canvas than scram with your man's leaded
And I'm back with my
(Boy)
Until the man is vanished
Away in the Grand Canyon these kids are grand standin'
Niggaz demand ransom over them grams cramblin'
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Well, fuck it, Van Damme 'em, Cam'll blam 'em
Call up his, I'm down south tannin'
(Boy, oh boy)
Mami I got the remedy, Tommy's I bet the enemy
Hire me somebody but now my body your feelin' finicky
Killa and coppa we chill in Morocco for reela
We got doe chinchilla doe and fill with them hollows, huh
It's the, I said it's the
(Boy, boy)
I'm the Killa
(Boy, boy, boy, boy)
