Missy Elliott, Mike Jones - Joy lyrics

[Missy Elliott, Mike Jones - Joy lyrics]

"Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah
Hey! Hello? Who is it?" "BOY SCOUTS!"
"Oh no! Don't you know not to ever disturb
A woman when she's cooking
Her favorite recipe?!"
"Hey lady, look this a jack move!"
"Fried chicken, pork chop, chitlins, collard
Greens what's wrong with you
Eh? I have to get back to
The kitchen my cabbage is burning"
"yeah, I want the cabbage and your collard
Greens all of it right now"
"Besides, you're making me miss
My favorite episode
Fear Factor! I wonder if the
Ribs are done you boys want to
Know chef's favorite recipe for musicals?"
"I don't wanna know no chef recipe?! Go 'head
Get the pump! Gon' and get the pump"
"Well I tell you you take
A half a teaspoon of


Mary J and Ciara with a dash of Slick Rick"
"yeah, yeah
He gon' come back with the burner
Yeah, I'mma stick - yeah okay well
You play play!" "I'm back oh
I'm back!" "Now what now!"
"It's easy as 1-2-3 play next
You mix Rhemario and Qu'ran in a Bangladesh
Style bowl to make some Nisan Stew
(art) mix some Campbell's soup" "And then?"
"i prefer Warryn style myself personally
Add a pinch of Fantasia" "And THEN?"
"with a Grand sized Puba
Then you sprinkle one Scoop
Fatman throughout to add
Flavor and a dab of Soul Diggaz
Then you throw a tablespoon
Of Timbaland and half
A Neptune smothered in hot
Scott Storch dressing"
"We gon' smother you in some
Hot sauce whatever you said"
"and you serve with a side
Order of Mike Jones"
"Mike Jones?" "Who?" "Mike Jones!"
"It's best served with a cold St nick brew
Whichever you prefer and there you
Have it kiddies this
Is my perfect recipe for
A delicious meal enjoyyyyyyyyyyy!"

Oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh joy

Joy oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh - so sick!
Joy oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh

Timbo, what they do
They try to be like Missy
But they have no clue
On how I'm spittin over beats the way I move
I move so smooth in my shell toe shoes
Now put the needle on the record
Show'n'prove
Since ninety-two I came to win and never lose
They try to stop a chubby
Chick from comin through
My belly out and sellin out these venues
My skills, will fulfill
Those who drink booze
My attitude is super cool like I'm subdued
And those who fake I take
On you and your dudes
I rule the streets I break
'em down with no tools
And Misdemeanor give the finger
To y'all fools (HOLLA)
Whoever doubted that I'm 'bout
It check the news
And if you snooze on me this
Year your ass will lose cause I will bruise
My loose screws is like ooh
When I come out, get your release dates moved

This year y'all gon' all lose sleep
I break 'em off somethin
Break 'em off somethin

This year y'all gon' all lose sleep, when I
Break 'em off somethin
Break 'em off somethin
(big shout out to timbaland)
This year you hear a real MC, when I

I flow over a beat that
Make a chick weave blow
And those who try to compete
To the wall I throw
So I drop it low, 808 kick low
Like oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh
Mr mos', this beat he compose
While I kill the track
Leave your ears decomposed fake rappers
This year your lies will be exposed
Like oh oh oh oh
Oh Missy steal the show-ow-ow
Spit on breakbeats, make rappers lose sleep
Make labels unable drop they artists on leak
I keep 'em knee deep, need me, be me
Hardly, and basically
I do it nice and slow-ow-ow

I'm slowin, the track down
So you don't miss the shit
That Misdemeanor talkin like that chronic
Get you super high
This year y'all gon' all lose sleep
I break 'em off somethin
Break 'em off somethin
This year you hear a real MC

This year y'all gon' all lose sleep, when I
(mike jones! who?) break 'em off somethin
Break 'em off somethin
(mike jones! who? mike jones)
This year you hear a real MC (GEYEAH)
Break 'em off somethin
Break 'em off somethin

See I'm a pimp that's on my grind
I hustle like all the time
I speak what's on my mind
My teeth'll make you blind
My heat'll lay you down
Whenever you come around
Forsaken out there mistreated your
Life'll be deleted cause I don't play dat
You know I don't play dat
Wherever you talkin noise is where
You gon' lay at
I'm supa dupa fly like Missy Missy
Before the fame majors used to diss me
But now I'm on top, I'm hot I can't stop
Before my deal came my shows was sold out
House been on the hill
Diamonds been in my grill
I'm trill like UGK, you know I keep it real
I'm who, Mike Jones, WHO? Mike Jones
WHO? Mike Jones and I can't be cloned
2-8-1, 3-3 oh, 8-zero-zero-fo'
That's my cell phone number
Hit me on the low i got

Hold up, i see a lot of folks in here
Sittin 'round like your shoes too tight
If you wear a size 10
Don't cram yo' shit up in a size 6 ladies
Be proud of yo' big-ass feet
We came to party up in this bitch

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