Boys Will Be Boys Lyrics - Singles - Shyne

Verse 1: 

Speedin' on the highway, gangsta lean 

One-Sixteen, full steam, kna meen? 

bitches on my jock 'cause my flow is hot 

spot the watch I got filled with rocks you can see from a block 

when the light hit, strictly fishscale, fuck that light shit 

menage out the garage, double pipe shit 

lookin' at her like "Aiyo Ma, I know you likes this" 

capital S, capital H, capital Y, capital N, capital E 

spit three at his V he survived miraculously 

killed the n***a who was layin' in the passengers seat 

flow sick, no shit, roll six 

head crack, walk the streets with my chain out for frontin' 

blow your brains out for nothin' 

fuck ya'll n****s walkin' 'round like ya'll sayin' somethin' 

what ya'll know about G4's? 

SL's with the automatic door 

let the automatic pour 

and kill you n****s who act hard 

flee to the Hamps, Atlantic Ocean be my backyard. 

Chorus - 

Boys will be Boys, Bad Boys, Bad Boys 

Boys will be Boys, Bad Boys, Bad Boys 

Boys will be Boys, Bad Boys, Bad Boys 

Boys will be Boys, Bad Boys, Bad Boys 

Verse 2: 

Flow like what, princess cut, yellow rocks gleam 

respect the team 

hands tied, close your eyes, picture me rollin' 

gangsta literally holdin' 

stacks and Macs 

I got the greyest jewerly n***a, need the plaques to match 

to feed my Moms and my team sit back relax 

fuckin' with this rap, still I pimp smack 

fuck a bitch gap, show me where them bricks at 

pants saggin', spazzin' 

Gucci, with the double G pattern 

n***a fuck around, put your stomach in your lap'n 

Seven-thirty, stay dirty, respect the game 

got this shit locked like John T. McLain 

get up in that ass like Pamela Lee 

shot Clyde, fucked Bonnie, Thelma, and Louise 

fuck a dream 

I got a Seventeen shot magazine that materialize everything to cream. 

Chorus 4x 

Verse 3: 

Gangsta life, fuck a block format 

put it down for my n****s who hold Macs 

sell bricks and catch cases, reload, spray, shoot 

half them them state troops 

and thats word to Jesus` 

fracture bones, crack ya dome 

we don't flash the chrome, we blast ya gone 

nevertheless, sell half wet, measure the rest 

sniff a little bit so I can mix pleasure with death 

for my bitches princess cuts and emerald sets 

American express, uh, whip it out 

fuck a price bitch, just pick it out 

want a little CLK? deep dish it out? 

on your car phone headed to your bitches house 

Pirahda gucci things, Cartier doobie pins 

you could live, but bet I Indian give 

fuck your friend 

take your shit back and give her the gems 

ya'll wear the same size, tell the same lies 

got the same cunt, bitch don't front 

it's the best, who wan' know? 

718 to 90210. 

Chorus 4x