Lyrics: Rasaq. Ghetto Status. Ya Girlfriend (B2k Beat).

(feat. Chamillionaire, Lil Boo)

[Hook x3: Chamillionaire]
Your girlfriend, in a suburban
She's tryna pretend, that's she a virgin
She told her boyfriend, she was with her friend
But I'm for certain, that I ain't workin'
I'm in person, to see her flirtin'
Suckin' n slirpin, and showin' her skin
And now her boyfriend, cussin' n cursin
But I'm alertin, That I will hurt him

[Only said the third time the hook is sung]

King Koookoookooopa
Koookoookooopa
Koopa Koookoookooopa
Koookoookooopa (keep repeating koopa)
Ay mayne, this ghetto status mayne
Gotta keep it gutta mayne
Koookoookooopa
I ain't gonna rap on this, but I know somebody else that might

[Lil Boo]
Like mud in my blood, judge got me in probation
Purple in my koolaid, drank cases what I'm facin'
Mama say I gotta wait for drivers education
But I hit the dealership, cuz lil boo is not patient
Thirteen years old, stay hoppin' outta vogues
Catch me at adult shows, puttin' up on yellow hoes
Ask me if I drove, yep fa sho
Smile when my trunk open, frown when my trunk close
Freeway call n tell ya sister that shes fine
Beyonce on the phone, salange on the other line
I gotta curfew, I watch b.e.t. till nine
After that it's lil kim n sprite can up on my mind
Throwback jerseys, hypnotic thats old
Color changin click dresses, thats the only dress code
Nike sign lebron, nike me I was supposed to
But I already got those lebron james, up on my toes
It's lil boo mayne, it's lil boo mayne, it's lil boo mayne
It's lil boo mayne, it's lil boo mayne, it's lil boo mayne
It's lil boo mayne, hold up

[Lil Boo: talking]
Hold up foo
Call these bois mayne, these concepters out here mayne
They see us grindin', tryna make this paper
This is ghetto status mayne
Don't put me on this funny beats no mo
Come on, tear up the mic uh

[Rasaq]
Lay it down, lay it down
Ya pins lay it down
Lay 'em down, lay 'em down
The pad lay 'em down
Lay it down, lay it down
Ya mic lay it down
Lay it down, lay it down
Ya foos lay it down
Cuz I'm hear, rappin' in ya right ears
Spittin' in ya left side
This is down south, I ain't worried bout the west side
Or the east coast, lets ride wit red eyes on them haters keep close
They say my skills is makin' progress
Plus I'm wearin' ice religously so I tell 'em god bless
Niggaz comin' out soft, like maple car stressed
And I'm (Breathing) like a dogs breath
And I ain't even harness, my full is potential
But for some reason, I feel bullet proof on instrumentals
And so does chamillion, is it coincidental?
Freestyle off the dome, forget a freakin' pencil
I don't care what ya bin through, this the takover
Send ya wanna be rappers on the ricky late make over
When the days over
I'm wit ya good drankin', and she clingin' to my nuts
now that's what I call a hang over
Game over, spit fire like a flame thrower
the man is colder, than a damn can of soda
Haha, I'm outta ya league like sammy sosa
Nigga, jus remember that