Hey Mama Songtext
von Black Eyed Peas
Hey Mama Songtext
La, la, la, la, la
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast masters blastin′ up the jamma
(Rewind)
Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty
Shake that ting inna di city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
The way your body look, it make me really feel naughty
Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty
Shake that ting inna di city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
The way your body look, it make me really feel naughty
I got a naughty, naughty style and a naughty, naughty crew
But everything I do, I do just for you
I'm a little bit of old, and a bigger bit of new
The true niggers know that the Peas come through
We′ll never cease (nah)
We never die, no, we never decease (nah)
We multiply like we mathamatise
And then we drop bombs like we in the Middle East
(The bomb bomba's, the base boom dramas)
Now y'all know, who we are
Y′all know, we the stars
Steady rockin′ all of y'alls boulevards
And, lookin′ hard without bodyguards
(I do) what I can
(W) ill-I-am
And still I stand, with still mic in hand
(So come on mama, dance to the drama)
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin' up the jamma
So shake your bambama, come on now, mama
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty mama
We the blast mastas blastin′ up the jamma (wow)
La, la, la, la, la
We the big town stumpas, and big sound pumpas
The beat bump bumps in your trunk trunkas
The girlies in the club with the big plump plumpas
And when I'm makin′ love, my hip hump humps
It never quits (nah)
No need to carry nine millimeter clips (nah)
Don't wanna squize trigger, just wanna squeeze tits
(Lover, lover) 'Cause we the show stoppers
And the chief rockers, number one chief rockers
Now, y′all know, who we are
Y′all know, we the stars
Steady rockin' all of y′alls boulevards
How we rockin' it girl, without bodyguards
She be (Fergie) from the crew (BEP)
Come and take heed, as we take the lead
(So come on papa, dance to the drummer)
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin′ up the jamma
(Naw, naw)
Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty
Shake that ting inna di city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
The way your body look, it make me really feel naughty
But the race is not, for the swift
But for who can, take control of it
And Tippa Irie and the Black Eyed Peas will be there
'Til infinity, ′til infinity, 'til infinity, 'til infinity, ′til infinity
Tippa is out
Kcohs a med a ffun, nuff a dem a shock
Nuff a dem a shock, nuff a dem a sting
Every time you see dem appear bling-bling
Oh what a ting, pure modeling
Grinding, and winding
And the madda dem a move inna perfect timing
Dem a dance and dance to di dancehall riddim
And di way di tune nice, it finga-licking
Like rice and peas and chicken stuffing
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin′ up the jamma
So shake your bambama, come on now mama
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin' up the jamma
La, la, la, la, la
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast masters blastin′ up the jamma
(Rewind)
Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty
Shake that ting inna di city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
The way your body look, it make me really feel naughty
Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty
Shake that ting inna di city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
The way your body look, it make me really feel naughty
I got a naughty, naughty style and a naughty, naughty crew
But everything I do, I do just for you
I'm a little bit of old, and a bigger bit of new
The true niggers know that the Peas come through
We′ll never cease (nah)
We never die, no, we never decease (nah)
We multiply like we mathamatise
And then we drop bombs like we in the Middle East
(The bomb bomba's, the base boom dramas)
Now y'all know, who we are
Y′all know, we the stars
Steady rockin′ all of y'alls boulevards
And, lookin′ hard without bodyguards
(I do) what I can
(W) ill-I-am
And still I stand, with still mic in hand
(So come on mama, dance to the drama)
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin' up the jamma
So shake your bambama, come on now, mama
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty mama
We the blast mastas blastin′ up the jamma (wow)
La, la, la, la, la
We the big town stumpas, and big sound pumpas
The beat bump bumps in your trunk trunkas
The girlies in the club with the big plump plumpas
And when I'm makin′ love, my hip hump humps
It never quits (nah)
No need to carry nine millimeter clips (nah)
Don't wanna squize trigger, just wanna squeeze tits
(Lover, lover) 'Cause we the show stoppers
And the chief rockers, number one chief rockers
Now, y′all know, who we are
Y′all know, we the stars
Steady rockin' all of y′alls boulevards
How we rockin' it girl, without bodyguards
She be (Fergie) from the crew (BEP)
Come and take heed, as we take the lead
(So come on papa, dance to the drummer)
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin′ up the jamma
(Naw, naw)
Cutie, cutie, make sure you move your booty
Shake that ting inna di city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
The way your body look, it make me really feel naughty
But the race is not, for the swift
But for who can, take control of it
And Tippa Irie and the Black Eyed Peas will be there
'Til infinity, ′til infinity, 'til infinity, 'til infinity, ′til infinity
Tippa is out
Kcohs a med a ffun, nuff a dem a shock
Nuff a dem a shock, nuff a dem a sting
Every time you see dem appear bling-bling
Oh what a ting, pure modeling
Grinding, and winding
And the madda dem a move inna perfect timing
Dem a dance and dance to di dancehall riddim
And di way di tune nice, it finga-licking
Like rice and peas and chicken stuffing
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin′ up the jamma
So shake your bambama, come on now mama
Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama
Get on the floor and move your booty, mama
We the blast mastas blastin' up the jamma
La, la, la, la, la
Writer(s): Adams William, Henry Anthony Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com