You hear me? I just want fuckin' head Shawty You hear me? [Hurricane Chris:] Shut up bitch or get kicked out You hear me? Give Head Or Die Shawty You hear me
You hear me? I just want fuckin' head Shawty You hear me? [Hurricane Chris:] Shut up bitch or get kicked out You hear me? Give Head Or Die Shawty You hear
than Tyson in the first round i got that amazin base and i wont turn it down before you pull up on me boy you better get your head right let me show you
with the trunk on slam Hangin' out the window hollin' I don't give a damn and if you don't give a damn let me see you rep your town I'm swang-a-lang-a-lang the daddy da Hurricane so you
off girl let me Let me rub on yo thighs When I look in your eyes You Ready All the girls I know you're sexy Take it off girl let me Let me rub on yo
's ferris in a trademark disappearance You can't beat it like coat hangers once used by mommy dearest But you run home and you blast it till you know yer hard of hearing
The Storm of the Century (the 1935 Labor Day hurricane song) Words and music by Chris Foster © January 9th 2003. The keys are the islands along Florida
up I'll kill you up nigga you dead (Hold On) Nigga you dead ain't Fred gots no head pull the trigga you dead again (Hold On) My friend Chris tried the
