Parole Aww Shit! lyrics

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Paroles Kelis Aww Shit! lyrics

[1st Verse:]

Lookin’ too fly walkin’ to the bar

Niggas wanna stop, askin’ who I are

Hands on my waist tryna find out

If I’m gonna flip off of one drink and can he get down

I’m a rock hip-hop pop star

Can’t check out the door in a fast car

Never run from nothin’ when I come thru

Roll with the realest that can take out your whole crew



[Hook:]

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!



(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!



[2nd Verse:]

I don’t like to dance to a slow song

You too close and I can’t get my groove on

Drop a beat and let a girl feel somethin’

I’m so gutter, watch me two-step to somethin’

Tippy-toes tip and make a mean walk

I ain’t tryna listen to your big talk

High off my drink for the third time

Boy, come and get it

Watch me make these niggas fall in line



[Hook:]

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!



(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!



[3rd Verse:]

‘Bout to head to the hills ‘fore I pass out

Get my coat from the check ‘fore I spaz out

Pull my whip to the front and I jump in

Catch a look comin’ from the niggas in the black Benz

Red light and now they tryna hop in

(Remember when I was in school, I was your boyfriend)

Got the tint so we never entertain those

Hungry-ass groupies on the phone like they got hoes



[Hook:]

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!



(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!



[Bridge:]

Now I’m feelin’ m’m, m’m good

Eyes filled up with the bloodshots

Look like a lay-up with the legs out

Now he’s tryna get a lick but I’m all gone



Keep, keep talkin’

Keep, keep talkin’

Keep, keep talkin’

Keep, keep talkin’



[Smoke’s Rap:]

Who’s this man who’s not star?

Yet you wondering who I are

On track with rock hip-hop star, the pop star

Who the man behind hot bars?

Smoke, I’m soon to be popular

Now, where he from?

Is it my city, your city?

All you need to know, I come from a dope city

Never shoot the boys, still keep the dope Bentley

Text to the cush with a chase of the Henny

And when I’m lookin’ for a freak, really picky-picky

And if it smell icky, tell her pull up her Vickie’s

But if it smell alright, I might do the licky-licky

Let you suck on my neck but, please, no hickie-hickies



[Hook:]

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!



(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!

I can make a whole song talk shit!