Parole Whoa lyrics

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Paroles Lil Kim Whoa lyrics

[Chorus: Lil' Kim]

My niggaz, pull triggers, stack figures whoa whoa whoa

Snitch niggaz, broke niggaz NOT my niggaz no no no

In the club we, sippin Dom P, sittin lovely oh whoa whoa

Sexy ladies, goin crazy, cause the beat's like whoa whoa whoa



[Lil' Kim]

Fresh out the federal building

To Bentley Coupes with the convertible ceilings

It's the black widow, call me Miss White

I done been through it all, shootouts and fistfights

Brooklyn bitch, you go wrong I get right

Back with a classic, now gimme six mics

Can't reach me on the phone, then send a bitch a kite

Man I do's it in heels or a pair of crisp Nikes

Stand behind Martin Luther King, but I'm more like Malcolm X

Guerillas beatin on they chest, get it right on Malcolm X

Just keep the peace, cause if cowards show me disrespect

My niggaz put his soul to rest and I don't wanna see you stressed

Champagne at my campaign, Kim for mayor

Told you I'm the same bitch from the escalator

And I ain't trippin off you rats and investigators

Get your envelopes, time to address the haters



[Chorus]



[Lil' Kim]

Me and my team, we tryin to own casinos

So we can all cop dreams like Pacino's

Come through in the oh-six Benz-itos

The feds tryin to shut us down like Nino

We keep it goin man, we keep it goin man

Won't stop, can't gotta keep it goin man

See I do it for the fans, they'll never understand

While they goin off course, me I'm stickin to the plan

Feel the movement, it's a whole new crew

FUCK Junior M.A.F.I.A., that chapter is through

Them faggots done did somethin that they cain't undo

Whoever ridin with 'em they can get one too

Coulda copped out to a one to three do

Still took it to trial, even though I blew

Brooklyn style, that's how we do it

ill gangsters and ain't got to prove it



[Chorus)

[Lil' Kim]

Now a party ain't a party 'til the Queen come through

You know where I go, man the team come too

Pull up in the Phantom or the V-1-2

Lil' Kim's that girl, even got her own shoe

In the club with my clique though, glass full of Crist-al

In the jail jumpsuit, still a bad bitch though

Rose from the ghetto it was hard from the get go

Then I showed the hood the world ain't just made for rich folk

Get'cha little dance up, BK stand up

Straight to the dancefloor, everybody hands up

Throw it up, get down, fellas hold your pants up

Ladies throw it right back, tell that nigga man up



(Chorus)

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