Bellyache - Arabesque

Shut your face homeboy, yo it’s on

Quit your belly ache, your bitch and your moan

Hold your ground, hold your grudge hold your throne

It’s Arabesque and he’s officially blown

To all my headaches, I’m your Tylenol

Light years ahead of you ask the god

Thugs do the Debbie Gibson when they hear this

Backpackers pack there saddle on my penis

Best thing since sliced bread cut by Saukrates

Soul strut like Koreans with Bum Knees

Sy Wyld bring the beat like syameese

48 cali with those desert e’s

Commisso count my bread count my dough count my biscuit

I’m the mob’s official meal ticket

I’ll send your ass home and that’s an order

Like my pops with a 5 o’clock shadow at the border

Bellyache, wooooo that’s that bellyache

I ain’t goin no where

Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache

Ayo Get use to me

Bellyache, wooooo that’s that bellyache

Quit your Belly Achin'

Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache

Motherfucker get used to me

Ya girl got them wanderin' eyes, and you wonderin why

Motherfucker I’m one hell of a guy

9−5 on the nag 9−5 on the rag 9−5 make me gag

Venus is a full time job stay flappin' they jaws

At Mars policies and laws

You like way I gassed you up

You fucking cocky cock

I’m Palestinian I was born to rock

It’s all real to a brotha you feel

Hold down the club like my name is steering wheel

Aramaic on the tongue big Besque on the chest

Those who want it we can put it to rest

To all the fakes make no mistake

This ain’t Degrassi High boy son, I don’t run with the snakes

Don’t get it twisted b

Ya mamma does dig me

Bellyache, wooooo that’s that bellyache

I ain’t goin no where

Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache

Ayo Get use to me

Bellyache, wooooo that’s that bellyache

Quit your Belly Achin'

Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache

Motherfucker get used to me

Sand nigga sensation

If it ain’t Paula Abdul its Big Besque on your radio station

Ayo my people what’s the haps

It’s like good will handin' out mics we catchin us a bum rap

My fam doesn’t own a 7−11

We hold down the bar with the southern and 7

For heaven sakes, been through all the pain and aches

Ayo son you know this wasn’t a quick break

Bellyache, wooooo that’s that bellyache

I ain’t goin no where

Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache

Ayo Get use to me

Bellyache, wooooo that’s that bellyache

Quit your Belly Achin'

Bellyache, wooooo quit your bellyache

Motherfucker get used to me