Salt-N-Pepa - Somebody’s Gettin’ on My Nerves lyrics

Ey, yo, show 'em what ya got
Show 'em what ya got
Show-show 'em what ya got
Show 'em what ya got
Ey, yo, show 'em what ya got
Cuz shit is gettin' hot
Show-show 'em what ya got
Cause shit is gettin' hot
Show 'em what ya got
Cause shit is gettin' hot
Ey, yo, show 'em what ya got
Cause shit is gettin' hot
Show 'em what ya got

Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
(Show 'em what ya got) Somebody's
Gettin' on my nerves
(Show 'em what ya got) Somebody's


Gettin' on my nerves
(Show-show 'em what ya got) Somebody's
Gettin' on my nerves
Forget that you're a lady
And give 'em what they deserve!

Now I've got this real phat attitude
Because of all the hype
Jealous-ass rappers broke as hell trying to
Play me on the mic
So test my respect, mess around, yeah, bitch
Jump up and get beat down!
Now Salt shorty, light-skinned, sexy
And your man know
I got him screamin' like a
Hooker in the front row
So you better check my record, better yet
Bum my name is super for a record
Check my platinum album
It's not meant for you to do
You even sound wack when you
Try to check the mic (one, two, one, two)
But wait I'm not through
How you livin' sayin' old rhymes
Tryin' to get new?
You don't work like the two to make hip-hop
So you can talk until your big
Suckin' lips pop
The next time you try to play me, you
Might catch a fist to the nose, ho
So there you go

You hear talk about Pep around
The way gettin' skeezed
(Yo, me and my man was with
Pepa last night, yo) Nigga, please
You couldn't hump me if my
First name was Cooty Cat
Your little jimmy can't even
Hold your zipper back
Why don't you tell the story right, man?
The only skins you ever hit was
The skins on your right hand
You rolled up on me in your man's Beemer
And I could look at you and
Tell you was a meat-beatin' daydreamer
You put the window down tryin'
To act real slick
And started smilin' like a hooker
With a bag of tricks
You stuck your hand out the window
Trying to show me gold
Your forty-second street Rolex was kinda old
I wrote a number
And I know you thought you'd get humped
But it was Dial-A-Date 1-900-CHUMP!
So why you runnin' around
Town playin' Jeopardy?
Get off my bra-strap, boy, stop sweatin' me

Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
Forget that you're a lady
And give 'em what they deserve!

Give 'em what they deserve
Give 'em what they deserve
Give 'em what they deserve
Forget that you're a lady
And give 'em what they deserve!

Now somebody's gettin' on my nerves
And I'm wrecked to get crazy
It never fails to amaze me
How people never miss a possip
And just believe the gossip
Instead of finding out the
Truth of what's up
It's got my nostrils flairin'
I'd be a fool if I believe half
Of the dumb shit I be hearing
Cuz everytime I meet a guy
That's got it goin' on
One of my jealous girlfriends gotta
Find something that's wrong
If he's not drivin' a Benz
Or Beemer then he's bummy
Or he's sellin' buddah if he's
Got plenty of money now ask me why
I don't know why or well or what the hell
So breakin' up the code
Because someone's getting jealous
I've got enough problems of my own
To sit up on the phone talkin'
About on who he's gettin' bone

Give 'em what they deserve
Give 'em what they deserve
Give 'em what they deserve
Forget that you're a lady
And give 'em what they deserve

(Show 'em what ya got) Give
'em what they deserve
(Show 'em what ya got) Give
'em what they deserve
(Show 'em what ya got) Give
'em what they deserve
(Show-show 'em what ya got) Give
'em what they deserve