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Lyrics: Sickalicious (feat. Missy Elliott)

Artist: Fabolous
Song: Sickalicious (feat. Missy Elliott)
Released: 2003
Rating: 49.4 out of 100Please log in to rate this song.
Sickalicious (feat. Missy Elliott) lyrics
Uh, yea
They call me G-H-E-T-T-O (ghetto)
Black star power, like B-E-T shows
I'm usually pullin up in the G-T slow
Flashing my ring finger with the E-T glow
I'm that kuncka act rucka certified plat knucka
Semi auto mat bucka take that fucka
Lay flat sucka I'm the Negro, amigo
Did every bay from Tampa to Montigo
They say I got the lifestyle, and the ego
I'm in the blue flames, no matter where he go
I'm that homie gat owe me
I'm the kid not that phony
Anybody that know me knows im here to get that money!

Missy Elliott
Hey!
Now get that money, keep them rims spit shine
24 shoes on my Hummer, and they fitting tight
Fabaliss and Misses, Sickalicious right.
If you a hater make my gun go Blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka

Fabolous
They call me F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S you just lay down slow
Notice before this tray pound blow
Spit game, get dames to lay down low
I'm da papi chulo
The cops say the tops on the drops are to low
I shop till I drop, when I copping new clothes
Boppin I hop, but don't stop for you hoes
I'm that new dude
That include making sure silences on the gat is screwed
With an it don't even matter mood
And a "Fuck you pay me" attitude
I'm that young boy, that slung boy
That'll have em saying, where you get that from boy
I'm still leaving niggas, at one choice
So run when you hear that gun noise!

Missy Elliott
You say you're rich, then come talk that shit to me
(Blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka)
Buy me the DVD's and TV
But I like shoes on my Jeep
(Blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka)
24-inch wheels, and a grill that go in the front
Got a resume for big pay
Gotta do more than treat me to lunch

CHORUS

Fabolous
They call me William H period Bonnie
I ride in a seven series with Tommies
I make another one of American hotties
And I'm that serious mommy
I'm the one, like the Jet Li flick
The private jet ski's quick
The motors on the jet ski's quick
The clips in the sets be quick
And I done slipped more shots in then Gretzky's stick
I'm the one like Penny Hardaway's number
That's why I do say it's hard to keep my broad away from ya
Once your bitch, get the get away number
It'll be hard to get a Happy Father's Day from her
I'm the one, like the piece that's on Nelly's chain
You can't reach me, I'm out of your celly range
Bitch I'll even put canary's up in your belly chain
And just to beat the traffic, hop in the helly man

CHORUS

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