[Verse 1]   Shut your face homeboy, yo it's on   Quit your belly ache, your bitch and your moan   Hold your ground, hold your grudge hold your throne   It's Arabesque and he's officially blown   To all my headaches, I'm your Tylenol   Light years ahead of you ask the god   Thugs do the Debbie Gibson when they hear this   Backpackers pack there saddle on my penis   Best thing since sliced bread cut by Saukrates   Soul strut like Koreans with Bum Knees   Sy Wyld bring the beat like syameese   48 cali with those desert e's   Commisso count my bread count my dough count my biscuit   I'm the mob's official meal ticket   I'll send your ass home and that's an order   Like my pops with a 5 o'clock shadow at the border      [Chorus]   Bellyache, wooooo that's that bellyache   I ain't goin no where   Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache   Ayo Get use to me   Bellyache, wooooo that's that bellyache   Quit your Belly Achin'   Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache   Motherfucker get used to me      [Verse 2]   Ya girl got them wanderin' eyes, and you wonderin why   Motherfucker I'm one hell of a guy   9-5 on the nag 9-5 on the rag 9-5 make me gag   Venus is a full time job stay flappin' they jaws   At Mars policies and laws   You like way I gassed you up   You fucking cocky cock   I'm Palestinian I was born to rock   It's all real to a brotha you feel   Hold down the club like my name is steering wheel   Aramaic on the tongue big Besque on the chest   Those who want it we can put it to rest   To all the fakes make no mistake   This ain't Degrassi High boy son, I don't run with the snakes   Don't get it twisted b   Ya mamma does dig me      [Chorus]   Bellyache, wooooo that's that bellyache   I ain't goin no where   Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache   Ayo Get use to me   Bellyache, wooooo that's that bellyache   Quit your Belly Achin'   Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache   Motherfucker get used to me      [Verse 3]   Sand nigga sensation   If it ain't Paula Abdul its Big Besque on your radio station   Ayo my people what's the haps   It's like good will handin' out mics we catchin us a bum rap   My fam doesn't own a 7-11   We hold down the bar with the southern and 7   For heaven sakes, been through all the pain and aches   Ayo son you know this wasn't a quick break      [Chorus]   Bellyache, wooooo that's that bellyache   I ain't goin no where   Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache   Ayo Get use to me   Bellyache, wooooo that's that bellyache   Quit your Belly Achin'   Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache   Motherfucker get used to me