Sangin’ 4 Charity

[spoken] I don’t wanna jump no gun,

But…do that be a fiddy in yo billfold? If so, then this shit be done. [/spoken]

Yeah, uh, uh, uh, yeah

This I be doin’, and I be doin’ it sick

Flossin’ the Louis Santa hat and

Rangin’ Gucci bells while I rock dis trick

Street corna’ like it don’t even matta

Tell Nick ma deala git them donations

On a silva’ muthafuckin’ platta

While I Salvate this Army shit

Uh, uh, uh, uh


Uh, uh, uh, uh


You know who I be

Brown, crunk, loose, and spicy

Brothas, look, put yo nuts to this

Bitches flang you change in ma dish

Best not play it down, slow it down

Best get out of town, when Nutmeg’s around

You see this skirt? So ill it hurt, like it be designa’ D and G

Muthafucka, only black American Express can feel me

Uh, uh, uh, uh


Uh, uh, uh, uh

Ya know how I like it when ya swipe that thang

[chorus] I be the Miss Clause that ain’t got no flaws

Workin’ the same street I used to jack Pintos up on

Now I be trickin’ for charity, gettin’ ma help on

[backing vocals, sung] Sangin’ for charity

Sangin’ for charity

Sangin’ for charity [/backing vocals, sung]