Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook   Say it again?   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook   Check this out here      Lookin' at my body I bet you thinkin' 'bout it   Don't you wanna know how I get down?   Take a number baby, you ain't the only brother   Tryin' to get up under my skirt now      Rockin' all your hot shit, stuntin'   Thinkin' that you're God's gift to woman   More like a buzz in my ear   Shoo fly don't bother me      I got my hair in a pony tail and they on me   Trust me I can get 'em off   They say I stride like a model, curves like a bottle   Watch me as I hit the wall and I make 'em say      Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook   Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook      Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook   Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Da, da, da, da, don't make me      Tell you baby, daddy he ain't holding the weight   'Cause he got the cake and no knife   Ain't nobody cuttin' so cut it out, cut it out, alright      So you don't know my face now, got it   Lookin' at me from the waste down, stop it   Said I'mma hard pill to swallow, fella   But I can make you feel better      I got my hair in a pony tail and they on me   Trust me I can get 'em off   They say I stride like a model, curves like a bottle   Watch me as I hit the wall and I make 'em say      Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook   Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my      Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook   Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Hey, hey, get it ya'll      Said you got a lot of nerve, playing with my feelin's boy   Do you always speak before you think?   Lucky me, I know the game, I'mma flip my hair and walk away   If you follow me it's on and poppin'   'Cause I think you're gettin outta pocket   Stop it 'fore you make me      Before I make you do what girl, you know you want it   Your body's nice, but eh you need some Luda on it   So find a matress so we can start jukin' on it, movin' on it   Baby 'cause tonight's the night   For you to rock up on the mic 'cause I rocks the mic      It's Chris Mind Freak in the back of a Rolls   I know magic, poof, do away with your clothes   Then come here and let Luda give that body a rub   'Cause damn little mama you thick as a mug      Just how them southern boys like it   Hurry up and get me a punch, I might spike it   Party in my Babs and yes your invited   So we can make a wet scene   And win an Oscar, all up in your best dream      Girl, I think you know you're drivin' me crazy   They jinglin' baby, go 'head baby   With two hams in your pants girl I think you's a crook   Let me touch what's under that   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook      Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook   Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh   Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook