Jennifer Hudson, Ludacris - Pocketbook lyrics

Give it to me

Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Say it again? Oh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
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Lookin' at my body
I bet you're thinkin' 'bout it
Don't you wanna know how I get down?
(Uh, huh) take a number, baby
You ain't the only brother tryna get
Up under my skirt now (Uh, huh)
Rockin' all your hot shit, stuntin'
Thinkin' that your God's gift to woman
More like a buzz in my ear piece
Shoo fly, don't bother me

I got my hair in a ponytail and they on me
Trust me, I can get 'em off
They say I stride like a model
Curves like a bottle
Watch me as I hit the wall
And I make em' say

Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
D-d-d-d don't make me (Oh)

Tell ya baby daddy he ain't holdin' no weight
Cause he gots cake and no knife (Knife)
Ain't nobody cuttin'
So cut it out, cut it out, alright?
So you don't know my face now, got it?
Lookin' at me from the waist down, stop it
Said I'm hot pill to swallow, fella
But I can make you feel better

I got my hair in a ponytail and they on me
Trust me, I can get 'em off
They say I stride like a model
Curves like a bottle
Watch me as I hit the wall
And I make em' say

Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh (Hey)
Don't make me hit you with my, uh
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh hey, hey get it ya'll

Said you got a lot of nerve (Lot of nerve)
Playing with my feelings, boy
Do you always speak before you think?
(Do you gotta? Ah ah)
Lucky me, I know the game
I'm gonna flip my hair and walk away
If you follow me it's on and poppin'
(Is that right?)
'Cause I think you're gettin' out of pocket
(Ok) stop it! (Luda)
Before ya make me ohh

Before I make you do what, girl?
You know you want it
Your body's nice, but eh
You need some Luda on it
So find a mattress so we
Can start jookin' on it, movin' on it
Baby, 'cause tonight's the night
For you to rock up on the
Mic 'cause I rocks the mic (Right)
It's Chris Mind Freak in the back of a Rolls
I know magic, poof! Do away with your clothes
Then come here and let Luda
Give that body a rub
'Cause, damn little mama, you thick as a mug
Just how them Southern boys like it
Hurry up and get me some punch
I might spike it
Party in my Babsen, yes, you're invited
So we can make a wet scene and win an Oscar
All up in your best dream
Girl, I think you know
You're driving me crazy
They jinglin', baby, go 'head, baby!
With two hams in your pants, girl
I think you's a crook
Let me touch what's under that-

Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
(Haha, you ain't gonna do nothin')
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh
(Go ahead and do it then, haha, what?)
Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook
(Luda)