You the sht, you the sht To give the whole world some Miley Cyrus Album: Supreme Clubbing, Vol. She give me IQ, that mean she get a head I'm feeling myself 'Cause we be in the club I'm feeling myself You the sht, you the sht 'Cause we be in the club We gettin' money why you playing with it An annotation cannot contain another annotation. Like god dammit, god dammit I just give her beats, I don't give her bread, 'Cause we be in the club Givenchy, keep the chickens in check 'Cause I'mma get it all And now I'm banging hoes in the continental To give the whole world some Miley Cyrus, Now everybody trippin' like they poppin' molly I came from the bottom, the sewer side Givenchy, keep the chickens in check All these car keys, drive them chickens to my crib Feelin' fuckin' lucky like the fuckin' Irish 3. Smoke joints till our eyes turn Indian red I get busy like a one line Like god dammit, god dammit The bigger the bill, the bigger you ball Jewel heel, got somebody slipping in my bed Big Daddy Kane bitch like Shakira So I don't need your brains I need my ass kissed Givenchy, keep the chickens in check Bottles on deck And I done seen me slidin' out my dope ride Shake, shake that ass like a, like an expert, I'll be everywhere, everybody know me Look up in the mirror Pool in the crib you could land a water plane in it Lyrics to 'Feelin' Myself' by will.i.am. She give me IQ, that mean she get a head Like god dammit, god dammit I'll be everywhere, everybody know me Super, super fresh, what a dope styling Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck Givenchy, keep the chickens in check All these car keys, drive them chickens to my crib I'll be everywhere, everybody know me And I don't give a fuck that's my fuckin' problem, And I don't give a fuck that's my whole Annotatemo And the mirror look at me Make sure your selection Super, super fresh, what a dope styling, Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck Review: RIFF-it. will.i.am - Feelin Myself Lyrics. And I'mma throw it up I love bad bitches that's my fuckin' problem I just give her beats, I don't give her bread, 'Cause we be in the club And god dammit, god dammit starts and ends within the same node. I tour the whole word like a dirty pirate Artist: will.i.am. Givenchy, keep the chickens in check You the sht, you the sht, Doobie in my hand, Rollie on my wrist Feeling Myself Lyrics: Woo! Women of in your dreams sleep in my bed Been rocking coats since my first demo And I'mma throw it up Shake, shake that ass like a, like an expert She give me IQ, that mean she get a head I'll be everywhere, everybody know me Lyricapsule: The Surfaris Drop ‘Wipe Out’; June 22, 1963, Lyricapsule: The Byrds Drop ‘Mr. I get on the floor just to make that booty twerk And I'mma throw it up The mirror be like baby you the sht Like god dammit, god dammit I see the whole game from my third Iris I just give the beats, so don't give a bread I'll be everywhere, everybody know me And I done seen me slidin' out my dope ride God dammit you the sht The bigger the bank that's more hoes, nigga I'm feeling myself, Look up in the mirror I just give her beats, I don't give her bread, Bottles on deck Up in the club, is where you can find me Catch me in the club hundred bottles on me Shake, shake that ass like a, like an expert And the mirror look at me You the sht, you the sht, I be everywhere, everybody know me 'Cause we be in the club Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck Super, super fresh, what a dope styling Heyo! I step in this motherfucker just to make it work I do it real big never do it tiny, If you about that bullshit please don't remind me I do it real big never do it tiny, If you about that bullshit please don't remind me Super, super fresh, what a dope styling The bigger the watch, the bigger the car, the bigger the star I came from the bottom, the sewer side Shake, shake that ass like a, like an expert God dammit you the sht, God dammit you the sht Super, super fresh, what a dope styling Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language: I'll be everywhere, everybody know me Like god dammit, god dammit The mirror be like baby you the sht I'm feeling myself Givenchy, keep the chickens in check Bottles on deck Pool in the crib you could land a water plane in it All these car keys, drive them chickens to my crib She give me IQ, that mean she get a head If you about that bullshit please don't remind me Super, super fresh, what a dope styling And the mirror look at me And god dammit, god dammit Got a bottle of that thousand dollar champagne in my fist Jewel heel, got somebody slipping in my bed Bottles on deck The bigger the bank that's more hoes, nigga Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck Big Daddy Kane bitch like Shakira Like god dammit, god dammit You the sht, you the sht, I be everywhere, everybody know me

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