Heather B.

Heather B. - If Headz Only Knew... lyrics

[Heather B]

Ah, ahhh, huh..

Ain't no shorts gon' be taken, word up

[Chorus 2X: Heather B]

If headz only knew how I felt about the rap game

They'd know - I ain't goin out

If headz only knew how I felt about the rap game

They'd know - I ain't goin out

[Heather B]

"I'm Every Woman," like Whitney, and Chaka

I sparks the green lye, the choc' thai, that good ganja

I stay mad bent, twisted up like a pretzel

Rainin on hoes in weak shows like Tempest Bledsoe

My head so heavy, heavy-headed, heavy-handed

It be these wild niggaz that I roll and stand with

I be rhymin 'til dusk, bout trials and triumph

My grill be like what? Niggaz know, I don't give a fuck

I stay in touch with the streets, the corners

Employed by the people, start slackin, a goner

You wanna know why I keep it real, cause it's easy

Fuck the fancy shit, it's the simple things that please me

I sports fat gear, along with no name shit

As long as I got me some cash, I don't care who name on my hip

I'm doin shit for noventa-seis

That's nine-six in Spanish, why don't your wack ass vanish

[Chorus]

[Heather B]

Demolition done, competition none

Reputation unsung strong long ground what

I got verbals, got herbals, and antihistamines

I'm herbally and verbally distributin you listenin

It's more to it, than a Lex and duplex

Don't sell sex or 'mote sex sells, I got more respect

Dressed in jeans, Gortex and striped rugbies

with the strength of fifty-four niggaz, word, that love me

Hoes ain't ready for the shit I got

And when I finally rock they'll see I turned it up a notch

No more comin, but yo' crack is wide open

or try to be hardcore, claimin, you totin

I hope that you be hopin, when I'm rhymin, I'm jokin

My tech', is more complex than weed smokin

Senile, it's time that I get more agile

Style versatile, FUCK doin a minute, in the penile

Attitude hostile, intelligently hostile

Not just the rhymes but my frame of mind will drop you

[Chorus]

[Heather B]

To all the doubters, givin they opinion

My rhyme style winnin so I'll just keep spittin

Yeah, I'm just nasty like that and I don't give a fuck no more

Fuck that herb and his whore, cause yo

in my last game of freestylin I dropped fifty

They did me none, mad jump shots and add ones

And then the tech', for bringin bitches down by they neck

Yo stop it, now there's no need to get wrecked

You play wild, but my style was flagrant and it's foul

I'll have you wipin shit wit'cho white towel

I crashed yo' bust cause you don't think when you shoot

that made it way back downcourt and caught a ill alley-oop

OOH! Heather B, y'all ain't know I get up

Plus I make my lay-ups, so all you heffers shut the FUCK UP

A team player, strategy the full court press up

Fat jersey and a baggy short Guess

Yeah, I even spotted 'em ten and did damage

Let them pick the refs plus they had home court advantage

But even then, I'm not one to underestimate

So the whole forty-eight I banged out in the paint

And when it all, was put on the line

Tied score, second left in double overtime

These bitches went and fouled me, they must not know

that in the clutch, Heather B was gon' sink both free throws

[Chorus]

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