Cherish, Rasheeda - Chick Like Me lyrics

Cherish

Cherish [Fallon and Felisha King] Atlanta, U.S. 🇺🇸

[Cherish, Rasheeda - Chick Like Me lyrics]

Yeah, D-lo, okay sho'Nuff
So what we got here ya'll
This right here is what
We call female pimpin' understand that
Rasheeda, okay cherish baby, okay
Don Vito you a little foolish, ha ha
I like this aTL

Straight up A Town that's my type
Thugged out, from the hood that's what I like
Neck, ears, wrist shinning so bright
Give me paper or plastic, anything I like
Uh, you see I like 'em kind of cool
Black shades, black tee, and black shoes
Candy painted Impala on 22s
Straight up gutta is just my kind of dude

Where my Chi Town gangsters
(Who're down for whatever)
And all my Midwest riders
(My St louis players)


Where my East Coast hustlers
(My New Yorkers, holler)
Cause we don't need no bustas
(We don't need no haters)
I need a down south G
(The ones that ride so good)
That can give me what I need
(The ones that talk so hood)
The boys from the West Coast scene
(My crip walkin soldiers)
That can handle a chick like me
A chick like me

All my fellas need to hear me
I want ya'll to hear me clearly
I'm not the picky type
I like my thugs from every city
GA, LA, on back to Philly
But them dirty boys, oh
They do something to me (Uh, no)
See I have to disagree
I like my thugs from the NYC
Steady trappin' on the gangsta scene
Riding in cars up on that gangsta lean

Where my Chi Town gangsters
(Who're down for whatever)
And all my Midwest riders
(My St louis players)
Where my East Coast hustlers
(My New Yorkers, holler)
Cause we don't need no bustas
(We don't need no haters)
I need a down south G
(The ones that ride so good)
That can give me what I need
(The ones that talk so hood)
The boys from the West Coast scene
(My crip walkin soldiers)
That can handle a chick like me
A chick like me

Yeah, Rasheeda cherish, baby
I'ma break it down and tell you how I like it
D-Lo
Red monkey jeans hanging low with a black T
Gotta mean swag and he trappin'
On the back street (Back street)
Now man it's somthing 'bout them G's
Make Rasheeda tempertaure jump 100 degrees
(I fly high)
Is it the money or the candy paint dripping
(Dripping) or the way he hold me
Down and keep it pimpin' (yeah)
Plus he know just how to beat it up
Can't get enough so he always wanna eat it up

Where my Chi Town gangsters
(Who're down for whatever)
And all my Midwest riders
(My St louis players)
Where my East Coast hustlers
(My New Yorkers, holler)
Cause we don't need no bustas
(We don't need no haters)
I need a down south G
(The ones that ride so good)
That can give me what I need
(The ones that talk so hood)
The boys from the West Coast scene
(My crip walkin soldiers)
That can handle a chick like me
A chick like me

Yeah
That's how it's going down right here baby
We calling out all the G's
All around the world please believe it
Ya'll need to keep it pimpin' keep ya A game
Keep it tight, baby (You know, gangsters)
This Cherish right here
This Rasheeda right here, the Georgia peach
The urban legend
It don't get no better than this a

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