"She Can't Be Mad" lyrics
Curren$y & DJ.Fresh Lyrics
(feat. The Musalini)
[Curren$y:]
DJ.Fresh, DJ.Fresh, DJ.Fresh
La-da-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da
La-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, uh
And she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past, and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Then I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag
I still got the hard top at the pad
The homie came through with a 40-oz glass
Swear that nigga think he from a whole 'nother class
But that ain't nothin' new, I'm from the old school
I just rolled two, let the garage door up
And let the oldies bump, my neighbors know what's up
OG got this shit in the cobra clutch
On go mo'fucker, I ain't slowin' up
And she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past, and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Baby, don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Now I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag
[The Musalini:]
Baby hit the mall, let her shop 'til she fall
With them high heels on, make her look tall
But she really 5'5", no shoes in the ride
Spitta bring the toys out, fly player sound
Bring all the hoes out, dime piece in the V
Took her to the car meet, lemon pepper wings
Blue cheese when I speak, blue bills off the speech
High as can be, still blowing smoke
From New York to the N.O.. Jet life shorts
Fresh out the store, boat rides or the Porsche
We can do it all, champagne, pop the cork
Mus' out of town, in the field like a sport
I'm ten toes, tunnel vision for the dough
In position for the score, kick down the door
I'm ice-cold, let the mink drag on the snow
It's big bags on the road
[Curren$y:]
And she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Then I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag, uh, uh
Uh, and she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Then I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag
DJ.Fresh, DJ.Fresh, DJ.Fresh
La-da-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da
La-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, la-da, uh
And she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past, and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Then I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag
I still got the hard top at the pad
The homie came through with a 40-oz glass
Swear that nigga think he from a whole 'nother class
But that ain't nothin' new, I'm from the old school
I just rolled two, let the garage door up
And let the oldies bump, my neighbors know what's up
OG got this shit in the cobra clutch
On go mo'fucker, I ain't slowin' up
And she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past, and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Baby, don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Now I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag
[The Musalini:]
Baby hit the mall, let her shop 'til she fall
With them high heels on, make her look tall
But she really 5'5", no shoes in the ride
Spitta bring the toys out, fly player sound
Bring all the hoes out, dime piece in the V
Took her to the car meet, lemon pepper wings
Blue cheese when I speak, blue bills off the speech
High as can be, still blowing smoke
From New York to the N.O.. Jet life shorts
Fresh out the store, boat rides or the Porsche
We can do it all, champagne, pop the cork
Mus' out of town, in the field like a sport
I'm ten toes, tunnel vision for the dough
In position for the score, kick down the door
I'm ice-cold, let the mink drag on the snow
It's big bags on the road
[Curren$y:]
And she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Then I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag, uh, uh
Uh, and she can't be mad at the bitches that I had
If them bitches in the past and she sittin' by my side
In my big S Class, blowin' killa out the bag
Don't put your feet on my dash
And baby, don't put no prints on my glass
I went to the lot, paid cash
Then I hit the hydraulics shop fast
Now I'm rollin' a six-five rag
