Stick Out Ya Wrist (from "xXx" soundtrack)

(album: Nellyville - 2002)

Uh, uh-oh, uh, uh uh uh, hey, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, come on

Hey mister, stick out your wrist, how many's in this
Stick out your chest, are those baguettes
I need to see how deep them pockets get
Let me see if all that shit you're talking's really legit

Fifteen miles an hour, maybe so
You can make it straight from your seat to your front door
You can get a glimpse of the one that they call more
Mister 'Low-Pro', fans peeping like there he goes
Two lane now, put your bite on me
Y'all done waited too long, I got a tax ID
Right ID, proper registration, never thought I'd see
Full coverage on my feet
Hold up, slow it down and let me think about it
Froze up everything that you can see around me
My neck, wrist, arm, the whole nine
I done took you best shot, now dirty you hold mine
Got cats going to jail trying to do what I do
I got cats going through hell when the thing comes through
Two-oh-two, light grey blue
Stitched in the carpet, you know who

Hey mister, stick out your wrist, how many's in this
Stick out your chest, are those baguettes
I need to see how deep them pockets get
Let me see if all that shit you're talking's really legit

Okay, now, let me see you do it, baby
Don't be afraid, go now
Don't be ashamed of how you do it baby
Just go ahead and make your mama proud

Jack Frost, fuck it, what it cost
Who the boss, flossing is apple sauce
Dirty third grade, bought milk on Thursday
Now, I buy Escalades on birthdays
Lex. and Mercedes on d's
Ease off these n-u-t's
I cough and sneeze for frost bit sleeves
It's not just me but really, my family
You want the run down, keep it popping 'til sun's down
Dirty, come now, I'm a show you who run the town
Your baby daddy is most hated, can't listen to my song
When he's at home, irritated when the video's on
I'm making ones with them niggers', see my ass in the club
Puffing the bud and spending a hundred for every dub
What he's got in his hand, I'm at it again
But I really can't stand a lunatic plan, work it

Hey mister, stick out your wrist, how many's in this
Stick out your chest, are those baguettes
I need to see how deep them pockets get
Let me see if all that shit you're talking's really legit

Okay, now, let me see you do it, baby
Don't be afraid, go now
Don't be ashamed of how you do it baby
Just go ahead and make your mama proud

You can call me what you want but call me a come up
Before you run up, make sure your funds up, why
I'm going to buy some shit out of here you ain't never seen
But probably wrist bands, more denim starched jeans
Diablo boots with the posher string
I'll take a Cream Team shirt with the Bentley sleeves
Four-door swoosh, made by Nike
Drop-top jump suit by Mike E
Got to like my player, I'm in it for the dough
I'm in it for show, matter fact, I'm in it to blow
When I wake up in the morning, I'll be in it some more
Guaranteed anytime, dial three-one-four
Do any S Cargo, got a S car to go
Zero to sixty, dirty, in four-point-oh
Second-ranking niggers' every where that I go
I got the same, got to have it, got to have it for show

Hey mister, stick out your wrist, how many's in this
Stick out your chest, are those baguettes
I need to see how deep them pockets get
Let me see if all that shit you're talking's really legit

Hey mister, stick out your wrist, how many's in this
Stick out your chest, are those baguettes
I need to see how deep them pockets get
Let me see if all that shit you're talking's really legit

Okay, now, let me see you do it, baby
Don't be afraid, go now
Don't be ashamed of how you do it baby
Just go ahead and make your mama proud