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"Bad Boy" lyrics by TEYANA TAYLOR
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"Bad Boy"
[feat. Honey Cocaine]


Shawty got potential, But he don't need a sponsor
You should see his goons more niggers than a concert
Body like Teyanna, stomach looking proper
Eyes half close, cause she's smoking on a Ganja
Hold up!
Hard than denims and cartagins
They All rugby
He my little bad boy, Sean Puffy!
Giving me stacks a rack T take that
Smoking on that James Brown is the pay back
I'll be his hood girl, I'll put that grind in him
So inked up, I could write my rhymes with em
He gave me all of his, but let me ball with mine
In the shoes spiked up, like a porky pine.
He love my Harlem ass the way my swag pop
A real bad bitch, never needed Ass Shots!
Cause when I see him I'm Like Honey In The Cocaine

[Chorus:]
He a bad boy, real when I need that
And his only competition is the IRS
A bad boy, a real when I need that
And his only competition is the IRS
Make money, money
Make money, money
Make money, money, make money, money
I say take money, money, take money, money
Take money, money, take money, money

[Honey Cocaine:]
He's a bad boy but it feels good though
Not rapping while he chilling in the hood yo
All the girls want the money I don't need shit
Cause I can do my own work on some queen shit
He know he hot share money in his pockets
Swag out the world they see him and he's the top pick
He beat the kitty up a dog like YG
And Jordan's all fire jewels icy
Him stupid is not likely
Cause all my guys hood smart I like em just like me
Now we down at the club with some weed smoke
And a G knows a G cause a G knows
Hit them others say some niggas awesome
Bonnie and Clyde through the game cause we bossing
This model thug life we run with them bad toys
But it's all good I told you he's a he's a

[Chorus:]
He a bad boy, real when I need that
And his only competition is the IRS
A bad boy, a real when I need that
And his only competition is the IRS
Make money, money
Make money, money
Make money, money, make money, money
I say take money, money, take money, money
Take money, money, take money, money
IRS!

You're my real bad boy, bad boy, bad boy
You're my real bad boy, bad boy, bad boy
Well, he's a bad boy, but it feels good though, good though
Well, he's a bad boy, but it feels good though, good though

[Thanks to Shawn Lavirgne for these lyrics]

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