Oh Boy
Cam'ron Lyrics

Just Blaze (oh Baby) oh baby, uh, killa

All the girls see the (boy), look at his kicks (boy)
Look at his car (boy), all I say is (oh boy)
Look mami I'm no good I'm so hood
Clap at your soldiers sober, then leave after it's over
Killa, I'm not your companion, or your man stand-in (nope)
Hit me when you wanna get rammed in, I'll be scramblin' (that's right)
With lots of mobsters, shop for lobsters (uh)
Cops and robbers, listen every block is blaka (blaka)
But she like the way I diddy bop, you peep that? (Oh you peep that, right?)
Mink on, Mauri kicks plus Chanel ski hat
She want the (boy) so I give her the (boy)
Now she screamin' out (boy, boy, boy, boy)
Now she playin' with herself, Cam dig it out, lift her up
Ma it's just a fuck, girl, get it out, pick on up (shit)
They want the boy, Montana with guns with bandanas
Listen to my homeboy Santana

Y'all niggas can't fuck with the (boy), I'm tellin' ya (boy)
Put a shell in ya (boy) now he bleedin' (oh boy)
Get him, call his (boy), he wheezin' he need his (boy)
He screamin' (boy, boy, boy, boy)
Damn, shut up (boy) he's snitchin' (oh boy)
This nigga's bitchin (boy), he's twistin' (oh boy)
If feds was listenin' (boy)
Damn, whoa (whoa, c'mon)
I'm in trouble need bail money, shit
Where the fuck is my (boy)? I got trust for my (boy)
That's why I fuck with my (boy), that's my nigga (oh boy)
He gon' come get his (boy), he got love for his (boy)
That's my, uh huh, uh huh (boy, boy, boy, boy)

When he got caught with the (boy,) we went to court for the (boy)
Just me and my (boy) and we sayin' (oh boy)
Be on the block with my (boy) with the or the (boy)
When the cops come, "Squalie"
Yeah, this is for the sports cars, Bonita's, Jimmy's
Pj's, old school, eighteenth at the sports bar
Eight or nine on the (boy), holla at your boy
Killa, holla, listen
It's the D-I-P (boy) plus the R-O-C (boy)
You'll be D-O-A (boy) your moms will say (oh boy)
Shit, ain't no stoppin' 'em, guns we got a lot of 'em (shit)
Matter of fact, Guru start poppin' 'em
Then slap up his (boy), clap up his (boy)
Wrap up his (boy), get them gats (oh boy)
Diplomats are them (boy) for the girls and the (boy)
Say (boy, boy, boy, boy)

Now when they see Cam and his (boy) they say damn (oh boy)
Santana's that (boy) that squeeze hammers (oh boy)
Canons and bandanas blammers we don't brandish
Blam at your man's canvas then scram with your man's leaded
And I'm back with my (boy)

Until that man is vanished
Away in the Grand Canyon these kids are grand standin'
Niggas demand ransom over them grams scramblin' (boy, boy, boy, boy)
Well fuck it, Van Damme 'em, Cam'll blam blam 'em
Call up his (boy), I'm down South tannin (oh boy)
Mami I got the remedy, Tommy's I bet the enemy
Homi's and bodies but now my body your feelin' finicky
Killa and Capo we chill in Morocco for reela
We got dough, chinchilla dough and fill with them hollows, huh
It's the (boy), I said it's the (boy)
I'm the (boy, boy, boy, boy), Killa

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing
Written by: Cameron Giles, Greg Green, Seon Thomas, Tyrone Fyffe

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind