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Album
YoYoYoYoYo, Spank Rock
YoYoYoYoYo
Release type: Album
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Details...


Release date:

2006

 
Duration: 41:45  
Size, Mb: 58,21  
Bitrate:

192

 
Price for album: ˆ0.96 (discount 20%)  

 
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Tracklist
Title / Artist     Duration Bitrate Size (Mb) Price Download
1
Backyard Betty Lyrics
Yeah, bang it bitch

Ass-shaking competition champ
Ooh that pussy gets damp
Pump that pump that pump that pump that amp

Ass-shaking competition champ
Ooh that pussy gets damp
Pump that pump that pump that pump that amp

Banging 'til the bells start ringing
Shit will eat you up, it springs
Slip into some real bad things
Let's get into some real bad things

Banging 'til the bells start ringing
Shit will eat you up, it springs
Slip into some real bad things
Let's get into some real bad things

Banging 'til the bells start ringing
Shit will eat you up, it springs
Slip into some real bad things
Let's get into some real bad things

(Oh, you turn me up a little bit)
Back-backyard Betty, blowing everybody's minds
She can make it start outta that behind
Betty's bad, ass and boobs
Cause all the jive in the interviews
Boat-nasty sucker gotta waste your turn
He's got stacks in the box to make your pockets turn
She rides fast cars to the bar
We all try to hit but never make it far
In the stilettos and panty hose
I step to the bitch, professional
I tapped the ho and gave it a go
Said I was way too fast, she went outta control
Shocked and amazed when she took the stage
She dipped and swayed as the music plays
Shook that thing that her mama gave her
Took all the fine pussies to an early grave

She was the ass-shaking competition champ
Ooh that pussy gets damp
Hump back hump back tramp
Fuck that pump that bump that amp

Banging 'til the bells start ringing
Shit will eat you up, it springs
Slip into some real bad things
Let's get into some real bad things

Banging 'til the bells start ringing
Shit will eat you up, it springs
Slip into some real bad things
Let's get into some real bad things

Banging 'til the bells start ringing
Shit will eat you up, it springs
Slip into some real bad things
Let's get into some real bad things

Back-backyard Betty, blowing everybody's minds
She can make it start outta that behind
Back-backyard Betty, blowing everybody's minds
She can make it start outta that behind
Back-backyard Betty, blowing everybody's minds
Ass and boobs, ass and boobs
Back-backyard Betty, blowing everybody's minds
Ass and boobs, ass and boobs
I tapped the ho
I tapped the ho
Tapped the ho
I tapped the ho
03:29 192 4,84 ˆ0.10
2
What It Look Like Lyrics
He was out of words…
exactly what's the problem, man?

It took me lightly like a quiet boost,
another piece of candy from your favorite neighborhood corner store,
surely shoulda sold the weight.
A heavy burden to carry the bare soul slaved, they didn't have the thing to do it.
Can't blame me cause you look,
can't name me cause you shook.
Took over some whip protect state which you can't walk,
fuck around with me more,
make you look like you're white in a Harlem shacking contest.
I hone this to find this so close to the finest fuck,
very ill-mannered don't start with spank.

Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is.
Oh ease up mother fucker take a breath,
who will it be, I'm more than more than less
Oh ease up mother fucker take a breath,
who will it be now, now suggest you take a rest.

Can't say what I will or won't do,
it's just the height, might want to stay on your toes to secure a full view,
for scoop as you contagiously move to assume
why you want to see me feeling the music.
My past is a broken sham
My thoughts are but my guts don't even believe me.
She don't believe me, it's like dude deceive me.
got a whole nother study that I'm constantly feeling,
nothing much that's to ever to such n’ such,
such so much to clean nuttin but butt nigga I'm rarely touched.

What was I drinking?

What was he thinking?

Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is, tell me with it.
I'm sick wit it, I stick wit it
and in the end all these niggas gonna get wit it.

Now tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is, tell me with it.
I'm sick wit it I stick wit it
and in the end all these niggas gonna get wit it.

Now tell me what it looks like tell me what it is
Tell me what it looks like tell me what it is

[sit the fuck…there ain't no dancing, no dancing]

My tongues is the drum,
my mind’s a machine,
no, it's grime fantastic extremes
fall victim to the stank tank M16,
sound shot fix fit crease grease they clean.

My tongues is the drum,
my mind’s a machine,
no, it's grime fantastic extremes
fall victim to the stank tank M16,
sound shot fix fit crease grease they clean.

Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is, tell me with it.
I'm sick wit it, I stick wit it
and in the end all these niggas gonna get wit it.

Now tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is,
Tell me what it look like tell me what it is, tell me with it.
I'm sick wit it, I stick wit it
and in the end all these niggas gonna get wit it
wit wit wit wit wit wit wit wit wit wit wit wit wit wit.

I'm sick wit it, I stick wit it
and in the end all these niggas gonna get wit it.
I'm sick wit it, I stick wit it
and in the end all these niggas gonna get wit it
03:07 192 4,34 ˆ0.10
3
IMC Lyrics 02:33 192 3,57 ˆ0.10
4
Rick Ruben Lyrics 03:33 192 4,95 ˆ0.10
5
Touch Me Lyrics 03:24 192 4,74 ˆ0.10
6
Bump Lyrics
Bump

Typical

Honey, honey see me
Behind my Gameboy
I got game girl
It comes easy
Let go your shoulders
My popsicle it’s so sweetsie
Turn back that spark
Don’t hesitate
And you believe me
Ya bitch believe me

Bump
Bump (Hey there you go, there you go, fine by…)
Bump (Too much rump in the trunk)
Bump (It‘s rainin’ it’s pouring, the little girl is snoring)
Bump (Typical)
Bump (Rump in the trunk)
Bump (Rump in the trunk)
Bump (Typical)

Now mingle shake from every angle
Re group the hood
Gonna start by the spangle
Like Karma Sutra
I hit from every angle
Free to speak from this place
Cos’ your thought’s so tangled
What’s that look on you face all miniscule
Want me to stand still
But your whole crew’s tangled
Cut them off shangle
Dangle
Fuck you
Get me?

Dadadada

Come straight from the hood
Gonna keep my music
Colour/rock/rap/punk confusion
It’s too confusin’
I do what I like
So what I pop is called it’s called Spank Rock
Right from the middle
That’s right Spank Rock
From the bottom to the middle to the middle to the top
The hottest mother fucker in the whole damn block
Do my thing and the girls watch

Honey, honey see me
Behind my Gameboy
I got game girl
It comes easy
Let go your shoulders
My popsicle it’s so sweetsie
Turn back that spark
Don’t hesitate
And you believe me
Ya bitch believe me

Bump

Hell you can date me, hate me, take me down to the bitch’s show
(Lets rock)
And I’d even let you hold my hand so the whole damn world can know
(If you can want my time we can unwind)
The real old rock and roll
Things get better yet
And like it said let me know when you’re ready to go
I just be here with my feet up free
Rollin’ this meat up
Me and my Marci aint changin'
We just stayin’ the same age
While you spritzin’ and teasin’
I’ll just catch up on my reading
Push up on work
Button down shirt
Bad ass mother fuckin’ cool jerk

Honey, honey see me
Behind my Gameboy
I got game girl
It comes easy
Let go your shoulders
My popsicle is so sweetsie
Turn back that spark
Don’t hesitate
And you believe me
Ya bitch believe me

Hey yo it’s me and Spank Rock
We always poppin’ it hot
He gets the ladies in line
I got you ridin’ my jock
I keep it dirty, not like Fergi
Ain’t the Black Eyed Peas
This shit ain’t happy
I’m trashy, boastful bitch MC
My rhymes are painful and fresh
My pussy’s tastin’ the best
I’m face scratchin’ weed snatchin’
If you’re ready to step
Cos’ I’m a throw down kinda bitch
I don’t play around
See I cut the fuck up
And I knock the fuck down
Pussy pounders have got my back
They all over the place
You can’t get it so you sweat it
We keep that shit laced
Two one five triple eight
We never slip it on the beat
Can’t help it if we roll
We get the players in heat

My ghetto girls
Take it, take it grab your man up like a thief
My ghetto girls
Hate it, hate it grab you bitches on a leash
My ghetto girls
Shake it, shake it break it like a dime piece
My ghetto girls
Fake it, fake it if that dick ain’t sweet

See I roll my Dutch thick
I can spit my verse quick
Don’t trip on this philly shit
We keeping’ it thick

We got the fly by on the hustle and grind
And if you get us at the right time
You get it from behind
In just Chanell pumps
And throw my legs up
And if you ready you can get it anytime you want
I’m the midnight dropper
I’m the body rockin’ rocker
Workin’ tight all night
Yo I’m never getting tired
Just a dirty little grin
When you digger dig it in
How the bitches think of this
When you stickin’ it in
Track your system
When we sippin’
Thinkin’ when we dippin’
Like you looks when I be drippin’
Think my shit is straight addictin’

Or in the bathroom break you off in the bed
Thigh squeezin’ puss teasin’
Cock rockin’ your head
See I like my ass sassy
I keep my man happy
Cos’ I ride like Kelly Bunty, yo I keep that shit, nasty. Nasty…

Bump, bump-bump

Nasty…

(Typical)
05:19 192 7,37 ˆ0.10
7
Sweet Talk Lyrics 04:13 192 5,84 ˆ0.10
8
Chilly Will Lyrics 04:32 192 6,30 ˆ0.10
9
Top Billin' From Far Left Lyrics 03:52 192 5,39 ˆ0.10
10
Coke & Wet Lyrics
Becky said she wouldn't fuck wit me 'cause I'm a scholar
Joanin' on my duck head, cats'll snatch collars
Now she rob my jack-jet, it's from my Alma Mater
Since I got they coke wet bitch, guns nigga holla
Straight from ?? County, she says this shit is so simple
Precisely why state cops should bear instrumentals
Reppin' love since she moved off campus at temple
Look, Britney Spears, oops! Nutted on your dimple
Poppy pop these, you can't pass for Puerto Rican
Pop these nuts, don't touch my damn Vico
Spank got the alphabet, any letter of your liking
The Os, the Ks, the Js, and age and weight, please no fighting

Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla

Hemp hackey-sacking motherfuckers pulled the competition
Fuckin' wit my scrilla
Now I'm trying to figure how to make these sacks bigger
Becky got that ditch-ass connect
But they know from pulling triggers--I'm warring bitch
I ain't fuckin' wit them niggas
I'll just cook a score of crack
Flip a pin into D.C. in the '80s with the blacks
So just walk full of j-do, pimps and crackwhore Japs
That's big money stack
That's Cum Laude stack
That's Wall Street, Donald Trump, bass grilla stack
Beat, more on the mat
Finna forty nightly slumping garish
Bumping to the Ruba and I'm skeeted off that doigt

Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
Coke and wet, bitch, guns, nigga holla
02:11 192 3,07 ˆ0.10
11
Competition Lyrics 03:32 192 4,93 ˆ0.10
12
Screwville, U.S.A. Lyrics 02:02 192 2,87 ˆ0.10