[P. Diddy]

Bad Boy

Let's dance [7x]

Yo, everybody report to the dance floor

Report to the dance floor

Bad Boy baby

112, Beanie Sigel

Here we go!



[Beanie Sigel]

God damn, guess who stepped up in the place?

The kid with two rubbers on his waist

Two steppin' to the base

and I don't usually step up in the place

I usually pull that lead out, ready to get a lead out

But damn, since I stepped up in the place

I'm try'na touch you, squeeze you, tell you what's the case

Before I bust, you squeeze, outta telly and a case of Cris'

I'm tryin' to take you to the telly, bust in ya ffffff

Tryin' to lure me out on the dance floor

I'm tryin' to get it twirly on the dance floor

Everything remains the same, might spit-talk to it

Then "Change The Game", might Crip-Walk to it

But never Harlem shake it, Harlem make it, Harlem break it

Dawg, I ain't hardly made this

You talkin' to one of Roc's finest

And do rewind this; it's Bad Boy's finest!



Yo, yo, yo, yo,

Bad Boy Motherfuckers

This is the remix (Won't stop)

112 (Can't Stop)

Def Jam, Bad Boy, yeah

This is the remix, Ludacris come on



[Ludacris (P. Diddy)]

Ludacris like 'em shaken not stirred (yeah) wakin up blurred (uh-huh)

Walk butt-naked (what) talk, speech slurred (that's right)

Necks get squeezed and I can't breathe (come on)

Stop then SWITCH; next, get me (that's right)

Hon', you kinda taste like lemon merangue (lemon merangue)

So nice I add spice with the cinnamon thang

Make ya pull your own hair out

Make ya body go flat, get the spares out

Well, smack lips, smack hips, make 'em backflip (that's right)

Cake mix, fingerlickin-like tactics, tongue gymnastics

Good head make ya eyes ROLL BACK

'12 on the track so you can't HOLD BACK

Hot bread and butter, peach and cream (come on)

I only reach for the peach if it's peachy clean (that's right)

I only reach for your spot and release the steam (come on)

A-town, we release the kings (yeah, this is the remix)



[Slim of 112 (P. Diddy):]

Let me tell you what I wanna do (yeah)
B?CHER B?CHER Lyrics
Abronasius: Bacher, Bacher! Hunderttausend Bacher! Alfred: Herr Professor! Wir massen Sarah finden. Abronsius: Aristoteles, Empedokles, Aeneas, Parmenides. Und Nikomachos, Diogenes, Antiochos, Maimonides! Schon beim Riechen spar?'n wir die Weisheit der Griechen. Alfred: Sie wratet hier irgendwo... Abronsius: Mark Aurel und Augustinus. Tacitus, Tibull, und Plato. Peregrinus und Aqunus. Caesar, Cicero und Cato. Schon beim Tasten wird man zum Enthusiasten! Alfred: Er halt sie gefangen... Abronsius: Bei Kant kann sich der made Geist am reinen Denken laden