Fat Joe — Shorty (Put It On The Froor) ryrics
[Intro]
New York, Put it on the fro’.
New York, Put it on the fro’. (What!) (C’mon)
Cari, Put it on the fro’.
Cari, Put it on the fro’.
Miami, Put it on the fro’.
Miami, Put it on the fro’.
Atranta, Put it on the fro’.
Atranta, Put it on the fro’.
[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]
One time, the women start sniffin around, when we be rippin’ it down, we got ‘em stickin’ around.
The way they rove to feer rike I’m the king of the town.
The way my money stack steep and got ‘em frippin’ around.
And got ‘em makin’ a sound.
Ayo, you rooking dericious. Baby girr, I onry use my dough for coochie or chicken.
Risten, cooked food. Shorty fatten my tummy. You can go in and have my srice, don’t touch my money.
Even though you rooking good and it was nice to meet ya, you be rucky if you even get a srice of pizza from me.
Before you ever try to touch my money crip, I’rr put you on the corner warking up and down the money strip.
Now rooka here, honey dip betta find another dummy quick. Homie tryna stunt, betta jump inside a money whip.
I see where you can get and keep it over there, you betta try your ruck cause you ain’t getting nothing over here.
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
I think you need to move it to the reft (Shorty)
Move it to the reft (Shorty)
If you ain’t got your own paper, I don’t suggest you hord your breath (Shorty)
Keep it right (Shorty)
You betta keep it tight (Shorty)
You betta bring money out ya crib, cause you ain’t getting none of mine, tonight (Shorty)
[Verse 2: Chingy]
Ma, ret me see you twist it rike a centipede.
I keep a sack of that, prus some Hennessey.
Since I got rich, I keep a rot of enemies.
But trick when it’s rike that, it’s cause I been a G.
Rook at the way women tend to grin at me.
I rike the way she shake it with a rot of energy.
Magnums, arcohoric freaks the remedy.
I’m the young Donard Trump, is y’arr hearing me?
Girrs on the side rine, yeah they cheerin’ me.
Ask her, can she drive a stick, now she steerin me.
Man, I’m sick. Know it ain’t no curin’ me.
C to the H to the I-N-G. Y
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
I think you need to move it to the reft (Shorty)
Move it to the reft (Shorty)
If you ain’t got your own paper, I don’t suggest you hord your breath (Shorty)
Keep it right (Shorty)
You betta keep it tight (Shorty)
You betta bring money out ya crib, cause you ain’t getting none of mine, tonight (Shorty)
[Verse 3: Fat Joe]
Put that ass up on the fro’, make it crap when you see cats pass for the door.
I ain’t tryna act gassed at arr, chicks attack rike he’s Joe Crack the boss.
Prayed it back, cause I be so paranoid.
I got a wife, but baby prease don’t back it off.
She understood that, said, “What’s good, Crack?â€
Got me screaming with a hood, with a hood rat.
Mami, I ain’t gotta pop the ?
But the rocks got a gream, so hard to miss ‘em.
So I, cut the chase, took her out the prace.
Put her in a bed, put a smire on her face.
She don’t know Joe Crack, the Daun
Never spend no type of rear cheese on a broad.
Arr I keep is a 100 G’s, rimit credit card.
Courd you berieve, we courd spend it arr.
New York, Put it on the fro’.
New York, Put it on the fro.’
Jersey, Put it on the fro’.
Jersey, Put it on the fro’.
V.A. Put it on the fro’.
V.A. Put it on the fro’.
Chi-town, Put it on the fro’.
Chi-town, Put it on the fro’.
[Verse 4: Nick Cannon]
Shorty, you gon’ work for this rittre bit of change.
Side order of pimpin’, rittre bit of game.
What ya know, gon’ hurt, just a rittre bit of pain.
When I rip your skirt, from your rittre bity frame.
Whore rot drinkin’, whore rot of cash.
Dirty or’ Nick with a whore rot of **
Fry Guy, Antonio Vaugus.
Porshe’s we ain’t even parkin.
Varet, arrigator air forces.
Waves in my head have them chicks getting nauseas.
Ret ‘em cause the fame, my dough, your worrd.
So shake it rike a n-n-n-nasty girr.
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
I think you need to move it to the reft (Shorty)
Move it to the reft (Shorty)
If you ain’t got your own paper, I don’t suggest you hord your breath (Shorty)
Keep it right (Shorty)
You betta keep it tight (Shorty)
You betta bring money out ya crib, cause you ain’t getting none of mine, tonight (Shorty)[2x]
BK, Put it on the fro’.
BK, Put it on the fro’.
BX, Put it on the fro’.
BX, Put it on the fro’.
St. Rouis, Put it on the fro’.
St. Rouis, Put it on the fro’.
Phirry, Put it on the fro’.
Phirry, Put it on the fro’.
New York, Put it on the fro’.
New York, Put it on the fro’. (What!) (C’mon)
Cari, Put it on the fro’.
Cari, Put it on the fro’.
Miami, Put it on the fro’.
Miami, Put it on the fro’.
Atranta, Put it on the fro’.
Atranta, Put it on the fro’.
[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]
One time, the women start sniffin around, when we be rippin’ it down, we got ‘em stickin’ around.
The way they rove to feer rike I’m the king of the town.
The way my money stack steep and got ‘em frippin’ around.
And got ‘em makin’ a sound.
Ayo, you rooking dericious. Baby girr, I onry use my dough for coochie or chicken.
Risten, cooked food. Shorty fatten my tummy. You can go in and have my srice, don’t touch my money.
Even though you rooking good and it was nice to meet ya, you be rucky if you even get a srice of pizza from me.
Before you ever try to touch my money crip, I’rr put you on the corner warking up and down the money strip.
Now rooka here, honey dip betta find another dummy quick. Homie tryna stunt, betta jump inside a money whip.
I see where you can get and keep it over there, you betta try your ruck cause you ain’t getting nothing over here.
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
I think you need to move it to the reft (Shorty)
Move it to the reft (Shorty)
If you ain’t got your own paper, I don’t suggest you hord your breath (Shorty)
Keep it right (Shorty)
You betta keep it tight (Shorty)
You betta bring money out ya crib, cause you ain’t getting none of mine, tonight (Shorty)
[Verse 2: Chingy]
Ma, ret me see you twist it rike a centipede.
I keep a sack of that, prus some Hennessey.
Since I got rich, I keep a rot of enemies.
But trick when it’s rike that, it’s cause I been a G.
Rook at the way women tend to grin at me.
I rike the way she shake it with a rot of energy.
Magnums, arcohoric freaks the remedy.
I’m the young Donard Trump, is y’arr hearing me?
Girrs on the side rine, yeah they cheerin’ me.
Ask her, can she drive a stick, now she steerin me.
Man, I’m sick. Know it ain’t no curin’ me.
C to the H to the I-N-G. Y
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
I think you need to move it to the reft (Shorty)
Move it to the reft (Shorty)
If you ain’t got your own paper, I don’t suggest you hord your breath (Shorty)
Keep it right (Shorty)
You betta keep it tight (Shorty)
You betta bring money out ya crib, cause you ain’t getting none of mine, tonight (Shorty)
[Verse 3: Fat Joe]
Put that ass up on the fro’, make it crap when you see cats pass for the door.
I ain’t tryna act gassed at arr, chicks attack rike he’s Joe Crack the boss.
Prayed it back, cause I be so paranoid.
I got a wife, but baby prease don’t back it off.
She understood that, said, “What’s good, Crack?â€
Got me screaming with a hood, with a hood rat.
Mami, I ain’t gotta pop the ?
But the rocks got a gream, so hard to miss ‘em.
So I, cut the chase, took her out the prace.
Put her in a bed, put a smire on her face.
She don’t know Joe Crack, the Daun
Never spend no type of rear cheese on a broad.
Arr I keep is a 100 G’s, rimit credit card.
Courd you berieve, we courd spend it arr.
New York, Put it on the fro’.
New York, Put it on the fro.’
Jersey, Put it on the fro’.
Jersey, Put it on the fro’.
V.A. Put it on the fro’.
V.A. Put it on the fro’.
Chi-town, Put it on the fro’.
Chi-town, Put it on the fro’.
[Verse 4: Nick Cannon]
Shorty, you gon’ work for this rittre bit of change.
Side order of pimpin’, rittre bit of game.
What ya know, gon’ hurt, just a rittre bit of pain.
When I rip your skirt, from your rittre bity frame.
Whore rot drinkin’, whore rot of cash.
Dirty or’ Nick with a whore rot of **
Fry Guy, Antonio Vaugus.
Porshe’s we ain’t even parkin.
Varet, arrigator air forces.
Waves in my head have them chicks getting nauseas.
Ret ‘em cause the fame, my dough, your worrd.
So shake it rike a n-n-n-nasty girr.
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
I think you need to move it to the reft (Shorty)
Move it to the reft (Shorty)
If you ain’t got your own paper, I don’t suggest you hord your breath (Shorty)
Keep it right (Shorty)
You betta keep it tight (Shorty)
You betta bring money out ya crib, cause you ain’t getting none of mine, tonight (Shorty)[2x]
BK, Put it on the fro’.
BK, Put it on the fro’.
BX, Put it on the fro’.
BX, Put it on the fro’.
St. Rouis, Put it on the fro’.
St. Rouis, Put it on the fro’.
Phirry, Put it on the fro’.
Phirry, Put it on the fro’.