Somebody's Gettin' On My Nerves
Salt-N-Pepa Lyrics

Hey, yo, show 'em what ya got
Addressing someone to show their skills

Show 'em what ya got
Asking again to show their skills

Show-show 'em what ya got
Emphasizing to show their skills

'Cuz shit is gettin' hot
Things are getting intense

Somebody's gettin' on my nerves
Someone is bothering me

(Show 'em what ya got)
Repeating to show their skills

(Show-show 'em what ya got)
Re-emphasizing to show their skills

Forget that you're a lady, and give 'em what they deserve
Don't hold back and give them what they deserve regardless of gender

Now I've got this real phat attitude because of all the hype
I have a confident attitude due to the hype around me

Jealous-ass rappers broke as hell trying to play me on the mic
Envious rappers who are broke trying to compete with me on the microphone

So test my respect, mess around, yeah, bitch
If you disrespect me, you'll have to face the consequences

Jump up and get beat down
If you act out, you'll get beaten up

Now Salt shorty, light-skinned, sexy, and your man know
Salt is short, light-skinned, and attractive, and everyone knows it

I got him screamin' like a hooker in the front row
I have him screaming like a prostitute in the front row

So you better check my record, better yet, bum
Check my track record, you bum

My name is super for a record, check my platinum album
My name is famous because of my platinum album

It's not meant for you to do
You're not capable of doing it

You even sound wack when you try to check the mic
You even sound bad when you try to use the microphone

One, two, one, two
Testing the microphone

But wait I'm not through, how you livin' sayin' old rhymes
I'm not done yet - how are you living by using old lyrics?

Tryin' to get new?
Are you trying to be original?

You don't work like the two to make hip-hop
You don't work as a duo to create hip-hop

So you can talk until your big, suckin' lips pop
You can keep talking until you're tired

The next time you try to play me, you might catch a fist to the
If you try to disrespect me again, I may punch you in the

Nose, ho
Nose, you

So there you go
That's what you get

You hear talk about Pep around the way gettin' skeezed
You hear rumors about me getting played in the streets

Yo, me and my man was with Pepa last night, yo
Me and my man were with Pepa last night

Nigga please
Please, stop lying

You couldn't hump me if my first name was Cooty Cat
You can't have sex with me even if my name were Cooty Cat

Your little Jimmy can't even hold your zipper back
Your small penis can't hold your own zipper back

Why don't you tell the story right, man?
Why don't you tell the story truthfully?

The only skins you ever hit was the skins on your right hand
The only skin you've touched is your own right hand

You rolled up on me in your man's Beemer
You approached me in your man's BMW

And I could look at you and tell you was a meat-beatin' daydreamer
I could tell just by looking at you that you are a loser who masturbates all day

You put the window down tryin' to act real slick
You rolled down the window to try and act cool

And started smilin' like a hooker with a bag of tricks
You started smiling like a prostitute with tricks

You stuck your hand out the window trying to show me gold
You put your hand out the window to show me your gold jewelry

Your forty-second street Rolex was kinda old
Your Rolex from 42nd street was outdated

I wrote a number, and I know you thought you'd get humped
I gave you a fake number, and I knew you thought you'd have sex with me

But it was Dial-A-Date 1-900-Chump
It was a paid phone dating service for losers

So why you runnin' around town playin' Jeopardy?
Why are you running around town acting like you're cool?

Get off my bra-strap, boy, stop sweatin' me
Stop bothering me, boy, and leave me alone

Now somebody's gettin' on my nerves, and I'm wrecked to get crazy
Now someone is bothering me, and I'm ready to get aggressive

It never fails to amaze me
It's always surprising to me

How people never miss a possip, they just believe the gossip
How people never miss a piece of gossip and believe everything they hear

Instead of finding out the truth of what's up
Instead of finding out the truth of what's happening

It's got my nostrils flairin'
It's irritating me

I'd be a fool if I believe half of the dumb shit I be hearing
I'd be foolish to believe half of the stupid things I hear

'Cuz ev'rytime I meet a guy that's got it goin' on
Because every time I meet a successful guy

One of my jealous girlfriends gotta find something that's wrong
One of my envious friends has to find a fault, no matter how small

If he's not drivin' a Benz or Beemer then he's bummy
If he's not driving a Mercedes-Benz or BMW, then he's poor

Or he's sellin' Buddah if he's got plenty of money
Or he's selling drugs if he has a lot of money

Now ask me why, I don't know why or well or what the hell
Now ask me why, I have no idea why

So breakin' up the code because of someone's getting jeal
Trying to decipher the message because someone is jealous

I've got enough problems of my own
I have enough problems on my own

To sit up on the phone talkin' about on who he's gettin' bone
To gossip on the phone about who he's having sex with