Face off 2000 (Remix) [feat. Sauce Money]

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
And it goes like
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
And it goes like
Talkin' 'bout me and you
And it goes like

I like to push up on chicks like it's the last record

Take 'em to the telly, get butt past naked
Let 'em feel the power, lick 'em if it don't taste sour
Hit 'em in the shower for a hour
Give 'em that feelin', Sauce Money for real and
Let her get on top if it's mirrors on the ceilin'
Hit her so right that she wanna throw rice
My device make her say, "Damn, that nigga's nice" (You feelin' that?)
Know I got wifey, lay my cards when I pivot
Passion seven digits if you wit' it
Sauce wanna give you the option for the boot knockin'

Nine times out of ten, it's on and poppin'
Ain't no stoppin', victory in the end

Bring a friend next time, let's do it again
Bring your whole crew if you see through me
And we can meet on the BQE
And it goes like

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Lay my game flat, what you wan' do?
Talk all night, hope you gon' screw
Talkin' 'bout me and you
And it goes like
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Lay my game flat, what you wan' do?
Talk all night, hope you gon' screw
Talkin' 'bout me and you
And it goes like

Sauce got his tongue between my thighs lollygaggin'
Uh, could you imagine?
Shakin' your tail just like a dragon, become my worst fling
In the mornin', Hot 97 the first thing (Deny it)
Hell yeah, y'all, don't buy it
I don't eat no kind of fish if you can't fry it
But who knows? Maybe one day I'll try it
But for now, slow down, too much liver killin' your diet

Can I get it? What? Get it wet

When he hit it first, can I get it next? Shit, you best
It ain't wack to me, but both of us, mami, actually

I'm Eddie King Jr., that nigga me
He want me to feel what he feel when it's tight
And I know you don't be doin' this right
But it gets no liver than this
Never lie on our dick, shit, we got niggas risin' our wrists

Play your cards right, you'll be drivin' a 6
Shoppin' all day, hoppin' out in the dist'
Poppin' the Cris', shit hoppin' out of your wrist
Poppin' your shit, New York's hottest bitch
From the ghetto to the stilettos
But you gotta do it two times like a echo
You feelin' that? (You feelin' that?)
This is how we run it down the line
Nigga, Sauce go first, Jigga next to rhyme
And it goes like

This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Lay my game flat, what you wan' do?
Talk all night, hope you gon' screw
Talkin' 'bout me and you
And it goes like
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Lay my game flat, what you wan' do?
Talk all night, hope you gon' screw
Talkin' 'bout me and you
And it goes like

You feelin' that?