Cam’ron, Juelz Santana - Oh Boy lyrics

Just Blaze (Oh baby) oh baby (Uh)
Killa

All the girls see the
(Boy) , look at his kicks (Boy)
Look at his car (Boy) , all I say is (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's stand-in
Hit me when you wanna get rammed in
I'll be scramblin' (That's right)
With lots of mobsters, shop for lobsters
Cops and robbers, listen
Every block is blaka (Blaka)
But she like the way I diddy bop
You peep that? (Oh, you peep that, right?)
Mink on, Mauri kicks, plus Chanel ski hat
She want the (Boy) , so I give her the (Boy)
Now she screamin' out
(Boy, boy, boy, boy) , Killa, Killa
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 want the boy Montana
With guns with bandanas
Listen to my homeboy Santana

Y'all niggas can't fuck with the
(Boy) , I'm tellin' ya (Boy)
Put a shell in ya
(Boy) , now he bleedin' (Oh boy)
Get him, call his
(Boy) , he wheezin', he need his (Boy)
He screamin' (Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Damn, shut up (Boy) , he's snitchin' (Oh boy)
This nigga's bitchin'
(Boy) , he's twisted (Oh boy)
If feds was listenin'
(Boy) , damn, whoa, whoa, come on
I'm in trouble, need bail money, shit
Where the fuck is my
(Boy)? I got trust for my (Boy)
That's why I fuck with my
(Boy) , that's my nigga (Oh boy)
He gon' come get his
(Boy) , he got love for his (Boy)
That's my (Boy, boy, boy, boy) uh huh, uh huh

When he got caught with the
(Boy) , we went to court for the (Boy)
Just me and my (Boy) , and we sayin' (Oh boy)
Be on the block with my
(Boy) with the rock or the (Boy)
When the cops come Squalie!
Yeah, this is for the sports cars
Bonita's, Jimmy's, PJ's, old school
Eighteenth at the sports bar
Eight or nine on the (Boy) holla at your boy
(Boy, boy, boy, boy) , Killa, holla, listen
It's the D-IP (Boy) plus the R-O-C (Boy)
You'll be D-O-A
(Boy) , your moms will say (Oh boy)
Shit, ain't no stoppin' 'em, guns
We got a lot of 'em
(Boy, boy, boy, boy, shit)
Matter of fact, Guru start poppin' 'em
Then slap up his (Boy) , clap up his (Boy)
Wrap up his (Boy) , get them gats (Oh boy)
Diplomats are them
(Boy) for the girls and the (Boy)
Say (Boy, boy, boy, boy) , yeah, yeah

Now when they see Cam and his
(Boy) , they say damn (Oh boy)
Santana's that
(Boy) that squeeze hammers (Oh boy)
Cannons and bandanas, blammers
We don't brandish (Boy, boy, boy)
Blam at your man's canvas
Then scram with your man's leaded
And I'm back with my (Boy)

Until that man is vanished
Away in the Grand Canyon
These kids are grand standin'
Niggas demand ransom over
Them grams scramblin' (Boy, boy, boy, boy)
Well, fuck it, Van Damme 'em
Cam'll blam blam 'em
Call up his (Boy) , I'm down south tannin'
Mami, I got the remedy
Tommy's up at the enemy
Homi's and bodies, but now my body
You're feelin' finicky
Killa and Capo, we chill in Morocco for reala
We got dough, chinchilla dough and
Fill with them hollows, huh
It's the (Boy) i said, it's the (Boy)
I'm the (Boy, boy, boy, boy) killa

Boy oh boy
Boy oh boy
Boy, boy, boy boy, boy, boy, boy