Lyrics

[Verse 1: Common] I'm a Jake, I don't bake a cake I'm not a cake daddy, you know the type be pulling up in a Caddy With a drop top, see when I ho hop, I kick it to the bus stop (what?) And it's goodie-goodie gumdrops I don't be dropping squat but to the heads they think it's topnotch I'm skipping over every other dip as if it's Hop hop hop hop hop hop hop, hop, hopscotch, watch Aiy aiyyo man, ay man, look at ol' girl She got a BIG ass! (Yo man, sic her.) Aiy man, ay... hey sweetheart, how you doin? I'm doin fine Oh word? What's your name? Rayshel Why don't you come over to the house so I can put you in the BUCK BANG! [Verse 2: Common] Aight, check it, you see I only bag ya for a second You never see me begging, you see the slimmie naked In my headroom, mo' better yet my bedroom Tippedy toking, and stuttering as if she's Max Headroom Redroom (Redrum?) No I ain't a murderer I'm Jake the Rake, yo sorry if I'm hurting the Vaginal area, fallopian tubes and your cervix I strongly recommend that for your gen' you get some Jergens I find it beneficial; not to force the issue I just blow my shit and wipe you see a head it's like tissue Use em and throw em away, see a ho a day is essential If you want a piece of the rock, trick, go to Prudential Cause I rock a buyer babe on the treetop And when the wind blows, my dick'll get hard, the cradle will rock I'm like the peacock on NBC, Nothing But Cock I pump, prrrrrrrrrrrump pump it up yo, like a Reebok Hey, I don't sell junk, but I'm a Junkyard Dog And when I Duke it's a Hazzard, so call me Boss Hog Or Roscoe P. Co-- ohhhhh! pain That's the sound of the Caravan... running the train Yeahhhh yeahh, bitch That's the sound of the Caravan, running the train Owwowhwahaheha! Check it out, check it out yeah, in yo' eye! Yeahh! Hahhh! Yeahh! Twilite Tone got tricks up my sleeve Immenslope got tricks up my sleeve Yo DRK got tricks up my sleeve De La Soul got tricks up my sleeve JuJu got tricks up my sleeve The Nubian Nut got tricks up my sleeve Com Sense got tricks up my sleeve ("Wait... I got another trick up my sleeve") [Verse 3: Rayshel] I'm not a Jake or a Rake or a ho, but I got the mo' better For head of the class And if you ask me I'm not trying ta be drastic I'm not a bitch like Robin Givens I'm concerned about your Plastic, ask it, I'll tell you what you wanna know And if I tell you no, don't be all up on it, dope Fronting so your friends won't know that you got the 86 So you call me a bitch You get your kicks, but Kix and Trix are for kids I don't turn no tricks, I don't suck no Dix-ie cups I hops in the hubba Hubba Bubba I'm like Al B. stud, cause if I'm not your lover or your friend Don't try to spend, waste your time Trying to get a taste of mine but you ain't tasting mine So find a new type puss, cause if I don't like you You ain't getting service G, this ain't the drive-through Drive by, way far, and everything'll be groovy Then you pester me? Yo I'mma tell ya like the Nubians Move on black brotha move on You gotta move on black brotha move on