Missy Elliott, Ms. Jade, Da Brat - Slap! Slap! Slap! lyrics

Something you can dance to ooh, yeah
Mmm, yeah mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah, yeah mmm, yeah
Mmm, yeah mmm, yeah

Me and my clique run through the gutters
Breakin' down shutters
As the beats go, dun dun dun-dutta
Ain't nothing better than these flavor buttas
It's like freakin' with your lovers
Tryna bust his rubba' have him
Have him undercover like he thought he never
How the hell a bitch like
Me become so clever?
Y'all whack MC's, y'all never, never
Talkin' hard as a cock but
As light as a feather
Y'all suspect hoes, y'all suspect hoes
Takin' off y'all clothes, y'all reject hoes
Y'all feel the rhythm, I'm 'bout to kill 'em

Slap, slap, slap
Right across your melon, easy
Nigga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy

Y'all little (Uh, huh)
Tryna act bigger, don't you get the picture?
(Uh, huh) every freakin' year I come
With something sicker (Sicker)
Fans takin' flicks, wanna get my picture
(Uh, huh)
Freaks only speak, "Do you know Jigga?"
(Uh, huh)
Strange mother tryna be my nigga (Uh, huh)
Turned your man to an ass-licker (Uh)
Cheatin' ass men, these cheatin' ass men (Uh)
Time to stop gamin' and stay the fuck in (Uh)
You feel the rhythm, I'm 'bout to kill 'em

Smack, smack, smack
Right across your melon, pronto
Huh, I said, smack, smack, smack
Right across your melon, pronto (Uh)

You don't wanna get smacked right quick
Wit' a upper cut, tight fist
I don't give a fuck if you don't like this
Still get paid to bust the right shit
Still get paid when I hop on the dick
Not a prostitute, I gotta a lot of loot
But if you knock the boots
At least cop the coupe
What I'm s'posed to do? Starve for you
This ain't sparkle nigga
I can't crawl for you that's impossible
I make the rules i pay the dues
I wear the pants
Bought the shoes, they Prada too
Fuck with me, you lose
Step to me and get bruised
Your chances are not few, they none
So what I'm bitchy?
Roll a fat blunt wit' Missy
In the front wit' me tim' hit me, ow
With the bang to the boogie the beat
Burnin' 'em wit the heat
It don't concern me, when niggas talk shit
They just wanna learn me when they see me
I permanently damage they shit internally
And slap, slap
Slap 'em right across the melon (Haha)

Nigga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy (Easy)

I'm the M-S-J-A-D-E
Toes and lows, bling like I'm BG
I don't need you niggas help, shit
I write my own
Gimme a beat and a muthafuckin' microphone
Picture this shit, me, Missy and Timbaland
Was 'bout to take it to the streets
But the chicken ran
Oh shit, it's gettin kinda hot in here
Oh shit, make niggas stop and stare
Talk dirty, rock-a-bye a birdy
Smack the shit out of Clyde
'cause Bonnie should've paid me
Get old heads for they checks that sign right
And I get lil' boys for
They dough on prom night
'Cause I do my thing, knots in a pocket
Smack, smack, smack
All up in your noggin, early
I said, smack, smack, smack
All up in your noggin

Nigga, slap, slap, huh
Right across your melon, easy