Rockol30

Testo I'm A Stop - Too $hort feat. 50 Cent, Twista & Devin The Dude

Testo della canzone I'm A Stop (Too $hort feat. 50 Cent, Twista & Devin The Dude), tratta dall'album No Trespassing

I'mma stop puttin my thang up in ya
Bitch, if you don't stop callin me
Every hour, on the hour
Muthafucka can't you tell you're boorin me?
I'm smokin, drinkin, thinkin 'bout pussy
Not necessarily yours
So - just leave me alone for a minute
I'm fin' ta fuck with a few of these whores
I met this bitch, her name was Lucy
She's a Twitter-stalkin, Facebook groupie
She loves dogs so I nicknamed her Pooh
One day she wants me and the next day it's Snoop
She keeps postin pics
Cause Lucy, she love to stroke them dicks
She got that feel-good energy
And a whole lot of nasty memories
I never shoulda did what I did with the bitch
Cause now, I can't get rid of the bitch
She's blowin up my phone, sendin text and emails
All about her dreams of havin sex with females
Cum-swapin in a threesome
But that ain't what I want, that's what she wants
I keep tellin her, to leave me alone
Bitch won't stop callin my phone
Bitch!
I'mma stop puttin my thang up in ya
Bitch, if you don't stop callin me
Every hour, on the hour
Muthafucka can't you tell you're boorin me?
I'm smokin, drinkin, thinkin 'bout pussy
Not necessarily yours
So - just leave me alone for a minute
I'm fin' ta fuck with a few of these whores
Yeah, 50
I shoulda never fucked that freaky bitch
Now I be on some kinky shit
Man she keep callin and callin
Man that bitch is a stalker
First I want my ass licked, then I need my toes licked
Soon as the bitch think she done I come up with some mo' shit
I can't have a square bitch, now I need a round bitch
No gag reflex, no ring, no marriage
I'm super yeah I'm Superman
See me I need a super-probe or super-low
And give a nigga some super-fellatio
And if I'm soft it's her fault, it's her job to get me hard
My dick's the bishop, to help a bitch find God
Church - keep it rainin on my hoes
And Taylor's shit on my back everywhere I go
That paper keep it flowin in - there she go again
Look bitch, you're workin my last nerves
I have to go to therapy, I can no longer fuck with you
What you and I had was a fling shorty, I had enough of you
I'mma stop puttin my thang up in ya
Bitch, if you don't stop callin me
Every hour, on the hour
Muthafucka can't you tell you're boorin me?
I'm smokin, drinkin, thinkin 'bout pussy
Not necessarily yours
So - just leave me alone for a minute
I'm fin' ta fuck with a few of these whores
Haha, Twista!
When you lookin at her body you gon' wanna get it with her
Because the bitch is a banger
Big swag, a socialite, easily clickin with strangers
Never really know her when you get to meet her
Cause she was so thick and you think she the bomb first
Ask what she do, she say she do promo for concerts
But she don't wanna listen, gotta be at every party I'm at
Runnin around V.I.P. like a rat
Why you all on a muthafucka like that? (Damn)
All these flaws make a nigga pause with the words
Got the drawers, but now I'm feelin like fuckin with you for the birds
For the urge, got myself in some shit I can't get out, so shoot me
Now the bitch all on the internet stalkin me
That's what I get for fuckin with a groupie
All I can do is smoke a loosie
Sip and trip on how the shit go, but all I know
Better be the business if you into
Fuckin with her cause she could be a ho
Nah - let me put it in retrospect
Reminiscin, wish I could go back up in time and intercept yo' sex
Now what you all in the window of my two-door fo'?
Lil' momma you get on my nerves, I bet you I ain't fuckin you no mo'
Damn
I'mma stop puttin my thang up in ya
Bitch, if you don't stop callin me
Every hour, on the hour
Muthafucka can't you tell you're boorin me?
I'm smokin, drinkin, thinkin 'bout pussy
Not necessarily yours
So - just leave me alone for a minute
I'm fin' ta fuck with a few of these whores
I know you miss this dick
I know you really miss it
You wanna hug it
Wanna rub it, wanna kiss it
I know you miss this dick
I know you really miss it
You wanna hug it
Wanna rub it, wanna kiss it
I know you miss this dick
I know you really miss it
You wanna hug it
Wanna rub it, wanna kiss it



Credits
Writer(s): Carl Terrell Mitchell, Joseph Salim Mourad, Thomas Johan Beringer, Dion Frederick Brigham, Andre L'mar Samuel
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link

Disclaimer: i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia un artista o un publisher.

Elenco artisti

APPROFONDISCI:   

© 2025 Riproduzione riservata. Rockol.com S.r.l.
Policy uso immagini

Rockol

  • Utilizza solo immagini e fotografie rese disponibili a fini promozionali (“for press use”) da case discografiche, agenti di artisti e uffici stampa.
  • Usa le immagini per finalità di critica ed esercizio del diritto di cronaca, in modalità degradata conforme alle prescrizioni della legge sul diritto d'autore, utilizzate ad esclusivo corredo dei propri contenuti informativi.
  • Accetta solo fotografie non esclusive, destinate a utilizzo su testate e, in generale, quelle libere da diritti.
  • Pubblica immagini fotografiche dal vivo concesse in utilizzo da fotografi dei quali viene riportato il copyright.
  • È disponibile a corrispondere all'avente diritto un equo compenso in caso di pubblicazione di fotografie il cui autore sia, all'atto della pubblicazione, ignoto.

Segnalazioni

Vogliate segnalarci immediatamente la eventuali presenza di immagini non rientranti nelle fattispecie di cui sopra, per una nostra rapida valutazione e, ove confermato l’improprio utilizzo, per una immediata rimozione.