Letras:Destiny's Child. Big Momma's Theme.
:
[JD with Destiny's Child in backround]
Yo New York in da house
(DC: Do do do do...)
Brooklyn in da house
Uptown in da house
Chi Town in da house
Atlanta, Georgia are you in da house?
West Coast in da house (Vita)
Everybody in da house
Baby, baby come on
Baby come on
[Vita]
Yo, yo, yo who that be?
V-I-T-A
Big Momma lady murders away
We play twenty-four hours a day
Mind on money twenty-four hours a day
It's hard to say or tell when there's love in the air
So I continue to be Miss Dawg of the year
And take care of my peeps when the street is hot
You need a place to stay, just pull out the cot
And I swerve in the two-door car without no shotgun
Driver took 'em lukewarm to hot like lava
I'm not one that's forgotten
There's a lot of haters that be hating for nothing
With their hand out waiting for something
Chick like me I waits for nothing
Put in work 'til the cake come in
So breathe easy whenever you need me
Just yell, V-I-T-A know it well
Chorus: [Destiny's Child]
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gonna take no popping off at the mouth
This is Big Momma's house
Those that get a chance to dance they get turned out
This is Big Momma's house
One night spent here have you climbing up the wall
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gonna take no mess at all, no no
[Da Brat]
You know how Da Brat-tat get
The dough stack (what?)
Ready for combat get your head cracked (what?)
Could cook a steak up and dice that paper
Chop it up like onions to add that flavor (o-oh!)
I'm fresh, even your mami wish I was her seed
I rip a hole in the track as it bleed
I breeve on 'em and make 'em feel the heat
Obviously it's evident I can't be beat, what?
I strut in dem thirty-eight jeans or the fitted ones
Either way you still wanna split something
Could it be the curves in the waist?
Or could it be the Suburban I push when I swerve through the place
Got the nerve to not be able to be replaced
Haters can't tap in 'cause I can't be traced
This my house, don't speak until spoken to
Disrespect me and I'm choking you, what?
CHORUS
[JD & Destiny's Child]
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
(Do, do, do, do...)
CHORUS (2X)
[JD with Destiny's Child in backround]
Yo New York in da house
(DC: Do do do do...)
Brooklyn in da house
Uptown in da house
Chi Town in da house
Atlanta, Georgia are you in da house?
West Coast in da house (Vita)
Everybody in da house
Baby, baby come on
Baby come on
[Vita]
Yo, yo, yo who that be?
V-I-T-A
Big Momma lady murders away
We play twenty-four hours a day
Mind on money twenty-four hours a day
It's hard to say or tell when there's love in the air
So I continue to be Miss Dawg of the year
And take care of my peeps when the street is hot
You need a place to stay, just pull out the cot
And I swerve in the two-door car without no shotgun
Driver took 'em lukewarm to hot like lava
I'm not one that's forgotten
There's a lot of haters that be hating for nothing
With their hand out waiting for something
Chick like me I waits for nothing
Put in work 'til the cake come in
So breathe easy whenever you need me
Just yell, V-I-T-A know it well
Chorus: [Destiny's Child]
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gonna take no popping off at the mouth
This is Big Momma's house
Those that get a chance to dance they get turned out
This is Big Momma's house
One night spent here have you climbing up the wall
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gonna take no mess at all, no no
[Da Brat]
You know how Da Brat-tat get
The dough stack (what?)
Ready for combat get your head cracked (what?)
Could cook a steak up and dice that paper
Chop it up like onions to add that flavor (o-oh!)
I'm fresh, even your mami wish I was her seed
I rip a hole in the track as it bleed
I breeve on 'em and make 'em feel the heat
Obviously it's evident I can't be beat, what?
I strut in dem thirty-eight jeans or the fitted ones
Either way you still wanna split something
Could it be the curves in the waist?
Or could it be the Suburban I push when I swerve through the place
Got the nerve to not be able to be replaced
Haters can't tap in 'cause I can't be traced
This my house, don't speak until spoken to
Disrespect me and I'm choking you, what?
CHORUS
[JD & Destiny's Child]
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
(Do, do, do, do...)
CHORUS (2X)
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