Lyrics: One More Chance

Album: N/A
Song: One More Chance
Released: 0000
Rating: 24.2 out of 100Please log in to rate this song.
One More Chance lyrics
First things first, I poppa, freaks all the honies
Dummies, playboy bunnies, those wantin’ money
Those the ones I like cause they don’t get nothin’
But penetration, unless it smells like sanitation
Garbage, I turn like doorknobs
Heart throb, never, black and ugly as ever
However, I stay coogi down to the socks
Rings and watch filled with rocks
And my jam knock in the Mitsubishi
Girls pee pee when they see me
Navajos creep me in they tee pee
As I lay down laws like Alan Coppet
Stop it - if you think they gonna make a prophet
Don’t see my ones, don’t see my guns - get it
Now tell ya friends poppa hit it then split it
In two as I flow with the junior m.a.f.i.a.
I don’t know what the hell’s stoppin’ ya
I’m clockin’ ya, Versace shades watchin’ ya
Once ya grin, I’m in game, begin
First I talk about how I dresses this
In diamond necklaces - stretch lexuses
The sex is just immaculate from the back I get
Deeper and deeper, help ya reach the
Climax that your man can’t make
Call him, tell him you’ll be home real late
And sing the break

One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance

[Verse two:]
She’s sick of that song on how it’s so long
Thought he worked his until I handled my biz
There I is; Major Payne like Damon Wayans
Low down dirty even like his brother Keenan
Schemin’, don’t leave ya girl round me
True player for real, ask Puff Daddy
You ringin’ bells with bags from Chanel
Baby Benz, traded in your Hyundai Excel
Fully equipped, cd changer with the cell
She beeped me, meet me at twelve
Where you at? Flippin’ jobs, playin’ car notes?
While I’m swimmin’ in ya women like the breast stroke
Right stroke, left stroke was the best stroke
Death stroke - tongue all down her throat
Nuttin’ left to do but send her home to you
I’m through - can ya sing the song for me, boo?


[Verse three:]
So, what’s it gonna be? Him or me?
We can cruise the world with pearls, gator boots for girls
The envy of all women, crush linen
Cardea wrist-wear with diamonds in ‘em
The finest women I love with a passion
Ya man’s a wimp, I give that ass a good thrashin’
High fashion – flyin’ into all states
Sexin’ me while ya man masturbates
Isn’t this great? Your flight leaves at eight
Her flight lands at nine, my game just rewinds
Lyrically I’m supposed to represent
I’m not only the client, I’m the player president


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