[RemyMa: Verse 1]
Remy Ma's a chef, see I be baking soda
I mixed it with the white and now they call me Coke-A-Cola
I be on that Kryptonite
You see my legs, my ass, my waist
My hips, my face, and my tits is right
I be having niggas like, damn, damn, shorty look good
Plus she really hood and she really be spittin like
She ain't never gave a fuck
Stay smoking that sticky bud
In the cut like nigga what
Twistin a vanilla Dutch
Plus I'm over in LA, blazin on that Cali weed
Then I gotta twist it in a Peach flavored Swisher Sweets. (Come on)
And when Im in the Durty
You know they bringing me goodies
Im puffin patio piff you blowing backyard boogies
Step in the place with my hoodie down
Pussies like to call cops
Never let em see my face
In case I have to send shots
Then we back up in the Benz, again, me and my friends and em
No we ain't hoes but we chiefin like we Indians
We be on that Kryptonite, you know we be gettin right
And all he wanna know, is can he take me to his crib tonight
And I'm like I'm the comma, Queen of NY comma
Remy Ma's a problem, I only fuck with drama
See I be on it on it
All night, yo I be on it on it
I be the reason that your dick is sore, when you wake up in the morning
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
