Lyrics: Slap, Slap, Slap
Album: Unknown
Artist: Missy Elliott
 

[verse 1: missy]
Me and my clique
Run thur the gutter breakin down shutter
As the beat goes, dun dun dun duna
Ain’t nothing better than these favorite buttas
It’s like freakin wit your lova tryin bust his rubba
Have him have him undercover like he thought he never
How the hell a bitch like me become so celvayall wack mc’s , yall never never
Talkin hard as a cock but is light as a feather
Yall suspect hoe’s yall suspect hoe’stakin off your clothe yall reject hoe’s
Fell the rhythm, i’m bout to kill em[chorus] missy (timbaland)slap!slap!slap!
Right across your melon, easy(nigga,slap!slap!right across your melon, easy)
[verse 2: missy]yall lil’tryin act bigga don’t yall get the picture
Every freakin year i come wit something sicka
Fan’s takin flick’s wanna get my picturefreak’s only speak “do you know jigga?
Strange muthafucka’s wanna be my niggaturn your man to a ass-licker
Cheatin ass men means, cheatin as mentime to stop gamin and stay the fuck in
Fell the rhythm, i’m bout to kill em

[chorus]
Missy (timbaland)slap!slap!slap!
Right across your melon, pronto(i said,slap!slap!slap!
Right across your melon, pronto)

[verse 3: da brat]
You don’t wanna get smacked right quickwit a upper cut like this
I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like thisstill get paid to bust the right shit
Still get paid to hope on the dicki’m a prostitute, i gotta a lot of loot
But if you knock the boots,but at lease cop the coup
What i’m post to do, starve for youthis ain’t ??, i can’t crawl for you
That’s impossiblei make the rulei pay the duesi wear the pants
Bought the shoes, they prada toofuck wit me you losestep to me and get brused
Your chances are not few, they noneso what i’m bitchyroll a phat blunt wit missy
In the front wit metim hit ahh, wit the bang to the boggada beat
Burnin em wit the heatit don’t conser me, when nigga talk shit
They just wanna learn mewhen they see me,i permentalydamage they shit internally
And slap!slap!slap! em right across the melon

[timbaland]
Nigga,slap!slap!slap!
Right across your melon, easy

[verse 4: jade]
I’m the m-s-j-a-d-e
Toes and lows , bling like i’m b.g.i don’t know nigga help, shit, i write my own
Just gimme a beat and a muthafuckin microphone
Picture this shit me missy and timbaland
We bout to take it to the streets, but they chicken ran
Oh shit, it’s gettin kinda hot in hereoh shit, make niggas stop and stare
Talk dirty, rock-a-bye a birdysmack the shit out the clyde
Cause bonnie should have pay meget old heads for they checks that sign right
And i get lil’ boys for they doe on prom night
Cause i do my thing, knots in a pocketslap!slap!slap!
All up in your knogen, earlyi said,slap!slap!slap!all up in your knogen

[timbaland]
Nigga,slap!slap!slap!right across your melon, easy