Pastor Troy - Are We Cuttin? lyrics

[Intro: Pastor Troy]
Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here girl
Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here girl
Ha-ha, ha-ha, come here girl
Ha-ha, ha-ha

[Chorus]
[PT:] Oooooooh
[Jade:] Baby what´s your name?
[PT:] Oooooooh
[Jade:] Are you wearin Bugle Boy jeans?
[PT:] (Hell naw!) Oooooooh
[Jade:] I heard you was from Atlanta
[PT:] Oooooooh
[Jade:] But baby please excuse my manners, I just want to know
Are we cuttin´?!
Are we cuttin´?!
Are we cuttin´?!
[PT::] Oooooooh
Hell yeah, hel- hel- hell yea
Oooooooh
She won´t see tomorrow, if I do not cut tonight

[Verse 1 - Pastor Troy]
Yea, Friday night (yea)
Yea, ballin´ holmes (yea)
Got a nigga smellin´ fresh as a rose
Grab my shit & tuck my clothes (cause I am)
Sharp as a knife, & this is the life
Pastorrr, ya tell me how ya love that?
Let a nigga see that pussy cat, where you at? (uh)
The dance flo´ (yea) that is my shit (yea)
Baby girl let ya hair down
Show a nigga what you workin´ wit, twurkin´ wit
I´mmm low-key
You do not want to leave? (come on baby)
You do not want to go back to the suit (come on)
Let you caress my feet, huh
Now what you want to know?

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Pastor Troy]
Off the chain!
Damn! Damn boo
Where ya been all my lifetime?
Let me f*ck ya ‘until the sun shine (uh huh) uh huh (uh huh)
What I do? (whoaa) Mind my bizz
No I cannot take ya home wit me
Baby girl, it´s what it´s, show biz!
Saturday morn´ (damn!) damn I am weak
Knew wassup when you came to the room
Talkin´ about getting´ some free, She was!
The-truth, Shawty got loose
Sorry, but all I needed is a pretty red substitute

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Ms. Jade]
What you talkin´?
I, bring heat when it is hawkin
Cause I, can´t stand a man that don´t understand
I am weighing kilos & grams the bitch wit the upper-hand
I am, ‘bout to kill it; you, dealin´ wit the realest
F*ck the strawberry´s & chocolate (ohh)
Henessy & the condoms, say they kissin´ & grindin´
It is all about the timin´; I, really like vice-versa
But, tonight is much worsa´, & um
Philly chick you only travel wit for best of men
Have me out in Atlanta just to see you in your belt & Timb´s
Pastor Troy, won´t you just pass the boy
In a, split 2nd I am answerin´ all questions
You dummies are still convessin´ how money make you undress
And so tell me

[Chorus] {twice} to fade

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