Mrs. International Letra

Method Man & Redman

Blackout 2

Letra de Mrs. International
(feat. Erick Sermon)

Yeah... nice.
Dedicated to all the beautiful people in the house...
You know who you are... yeah.
Redman, Methodman, Blackout 2.

[Verse 1:]
Hair n nails done up, girl you got your act together
You get the thumbs up.
Your raw footage is uncut,
Frontin like them goodies is untouched,
We both knew these moneys is young bucks, ma
You ever take a trip to Shangri la?
Too many hardships, the hardest one is saying goodbye
Look here, times run, let me save you some time
N in your spare time fully understand I'm a rare find... ha you kno,
So pick a date and pick a place n we there fo' sho,
Slow up the pace this ain't a race n there you go.
I'm dope money girl that means I got cash to blow.
She love it tho, she's so international.
Not around the way you round the world
N you be stuntin' when you 'round your girls, but you classy tho.
I'm feelin your vibe you're feelin how high the G4's ready to fly, is you ready to ride? Let's go!

[Chorus 1:]
Now we can creame, we can lay on the beach you know,
Then hit the sheets, I'll let you play with my feets you kno.
She keep it low, she's so international!
Hey, I like a girl that would roll me a ***** you know,
With pretty feet, cook me something to eat you know,
You're not a groupie, you're international!

[Verse 2:]
You know me girl, who I be girl,
The big whale that bailed outta sea world.
What's yo name, show me ID girl.
You look Black n a lil Chinese girl.
Hey wait a minute, where you going shorty?
Tryna sneak past me like you ain't ballin',
You look sweet like tweet baby, ca-ca-call me.
Matter of fact, wasn't you on Maury? I'm just playin.
Hey miss thang, hey miss thang, how you gon miss meh?
I got tickets, let's roll to the Knicks game.
You Tina Marie, n baby I'm Rick James,
Excuse meh, where you goin mama?
I wanted change, I voted for Obama
Bring in the new, kick out the old timers
Let's talk while we goin ta meet yo mama!

[Chorus 2:]
Hey, I like a girl that's thick in the waist you know,
The kinda girl that'd finish her plate you know?
You're not greedy,
You're international
The type of chick I'm like whillie a bunk you know,
Rock the mike, roll the Phillie up tight you know?
I like it tho she's so international...

[Verse 3:]
Seems to me(me), you a queen to be
You mean girl but you don't mean to be
Got your crown and your thrown,
A little cast so you can rest your dome,
And we can smoke a little ****** you know?
You gettin' that dough, let's get it and go
On this cruise we're takin it slow,
You're paintin your toes, n that's cool.
Fuck with your dude whose fuckin with you,
Like an overnight celebrity Ms. Nothin-to-lose.
Yo, Hey(Hey) miss lady, my Boriqua,
I heard your apple pomme like bonita,
Your accent tellin' me you from the east side
Take off your shoes, you're bout five feet highhh!
I get highh! what about you?
A jungle brotha, and baby I'll house you.
Your feet lookin real good in them house shoes.
You're not a groupie, you're international.

(A-aalll) International...