[{"id":40005263,"name":"Skinz (feat. Grand Puba)","trackName":"Skinz (feat. Grand Puba)","artistName":"Pete Rock & CL Smooth","albumName":"Mecca And The Soul Brother","duration":255.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh\nAhh yeah\nWhat we talkin' bout? Talkin' 'bout the skinz\nSkinz? Yeah the skinz, you know, girls\nFine women\nSkinz, listen listen to my man\n\nI hear it callin' never stallin' hit the skinz bed or shelter\nLove to tap her on the shoulder, roll her over, then I belt her\nLeave a bite when the joint is tight, lovely when it's loose\nProduce the proper juice, plus I never hump a deuce\nGive me the head on the waterbed, play you like a Pro Ked\nSlide the flavors on the sled, listen to what he said\nCome and lie on the bearskin, notice how the firm make him grin\nCover the checks and then I go cash em in\nHold the zipper, unlock, and grab the whole bag of treats\nHear the hooker slam the butcher with the biggest stack of meats\nTake two hands to hold it, flip it out and unroll it\nIf you spot a brother larger then the next man stole it\nOochie coo now, you know the Mecca wanna bang bang\nBeggin' a pardon as I knock a new skinz stank thing\nCL, kickin' flavor with the Grand Puba\nSpeakin' on the wins, I'm about to hit the skinz\n\nTalkin 'bout the skinz\nThe skinz\nThat's right, talkin' bout the skinz baby\nNo disrespect, just talkin' bout an everyday thing\nC'mon\n\nNowadays I'm on some extra be careful (shit)\nI take precaution, before I slide up in the slit\nMan (fuck) that I put aluminum foil on my (dick)\n'Cause if you catch it, boy that (shit)'ll kill you quick\nBetter yet, you can pass me a Ziploc\nA bag of boom, and a 40 then some boot knock\nI get stiff and it's hard like Charles Bronson\nIt's kinda (fucked) up what happened to Magic Johnson\nBut anyway, you know the resume\nTime to drop the Girbauds and parlay, HEY\nI rock the world of a big batty girl\nWon't hit the skinz if she gotta jheri curl\n'Cause when I jump into my thing I make the bed spring sing\nAnd you can ask my old fling, who's the bedroom king?\nHit the skinz hard, she'll hang on to the bedpost\nThen I drop my load, then get up and make some french toast\nRun and get the paper and it won't be the Post\nAfter that you know the flavor I'm ghost!\n\nHit the skinz they're forever wins, cozy like my Timbs and brims\nBut never heard a bigger limb around the rim\nSet to hurdle when I pop a girdle, sum it up surgical\nLay down the pubic and the stuff won't curdle\nI got the remedy for competition of any\nSleepin' with the enemy who never got a pretty penny\nSkinz I'm with, check the lower lipped pal of mine\nNow you know the Pete Rock, skinz all the time\n\nOh Pete Rock, raw as I ever been\nGive me room so I can speak about the skinz\nTake a tidbit, but God (damn it) can you dig it\nSisters play me close and they want my beeper digits\n'Cause I love em undercover, the Chocolate Boy Wonder\nBreak like an earthquake, boomin' like thunder\n'Til the honey dip the blouse, slip in the house\nSip the Stout, rip the boots, and I'm out\n\nLike the Isley's, apply these, in-Between the Sheets\nFollow yes another trail as if I had on cleats\nRip my way through a negligee, park it like a valet\nSure it's OK, just met the skinz yesterday\nTap the baggy drawers, lay the laws, lovely puff it up\nFor the ride, honey buckle up, smearin' all your makeup\nCL can wreck it well a bombshell finishin'\nSo get the tunnel vision on how I hit the skinz\n\nHow I hit the skinz, uhh\nIt's fat, yes\nAs you know I like to flow\nDon't try to show\nBecause I'm, the accurate man\nEverybody knows it\nPeace to all stealers\nOf the Mount Vernon\nYoung poets and players\nNew Rochelle, the Bronx","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Skinz (feat. Grand Puba)\n  artist: Pete Rock & CL Smooth\n  album: Mecca And The Soul Brother\n  duration_ms: 255333\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Uhh\n  Ahh yeah\n  What we talkin' bout? Talkin' 'bout the skinz\n  Skinz? Yeah the skinz, you know, girls\n  Fine women\n  Skinz, listen listen to my man\n\n  I hear it callin' never stallin' hit the skinz bed or shelter\n  Love to tap her on the shoulder, roll her over, then I belt her\n  Leave a bite when the joint is tight, lovely when it's loose\n  Produce the proper juice, plus I never hump a deuce\n  Give me the head on the waterbed, play you like a Pro Ked\n  Slide the flavors on the sled, listen to what he said\n  Come and lie on the bearskin, notice how the firm make him grin\n  Cover the checks and then I go cash em in\n  Hold the zipper, unlock, and grab the whole bag of treats\n  Hear the hooker slam the butcher with the biggest stack of meats\n  Take two hands to hold it, flip it out and unroll it\n  If you spot a brother larger then the next man stole it\n  Oochie coo now, you know the Mecca wanna bang bang\n  Beggin' a pardon as I knock a new skinz stank thing\n  CL, kickin' flavor with the Grand Puba\n  Speakin' on the wins, I'm about to hit the skinz\n\n  Talkin 'bout the skinz\n  The skinz\n  That's right, talkin' bout the skinz baby\n  No disrespect, just talkin' bout an everyday thing\n  C'mon\n\n  Nowadays I'm on some extra be careful (shit)\n  I take precaution, before I slide up in the slit\n  Man (fuck) that I put aluminum foil on my (dick)\n  'Cause if you catch it, boy that (shit)'ll kill you quick\n  Better yet, you can pass me a Ziploc\n  A bag of boom, and a 40 then some boot knock\n  I get stiff and it's hard like Charles Bronson\n  It's kinda (fucked) up what happened to Magic Johnson\n  But anyway, you know the resume\n  Time to drop the Girbauds and parlay, HEY\n  I rock the world of a big batty girl\n  Won't hit the skinz if she gotta jheri curl\n  'Cause when I jump into my thing I make the bed spring sing\n  And you can ask my old fling, who's the bedroom king?\n  Hit the skinz hard, she'll hang on to the bedpost\n  Then I drop my load, then get up and make some french toast\n  Run and get the paper and it won't be the Post\n  After that you know the flavor I'm ghost!\n\n  Hit the skinz they're forever wins, cozy like my Timbs and brims\n  But never heard a bigger limb around the rim\n  Set to hurdle when I pop a girdle, sum it up surgical\n  Lay down the pubic and the stuff won't curdle\n  I got the remedy for competition of any\n  Sleepin' with the enemy who never got a pretty penny\n  Skinz I'm with, check the lower lipped pal of mine\n  Now you know the Pete Rock, skinz all the time\n\n  Oh Pete Rock, raw as I ever been\n  Give me room so I can speak about the skinz\n  Take a tidbit, but God (damn it) can you dig it\n  Sisters play me close and they want my beeper digits\n  'Cause I love em undercover, the Chocolate Boy Wonder\n  Break like an earthquake, boomin' like thunder\n  'Til the honey dip the blouse, slip in the house\n  Sip the Stout, rip the boots, and I'm out\n\n  Like the Isley's, apply these, in-Between the Sheets\n  Follow yes another trail as if I had on cleats\n  Rip my way through a negligee, park it like a valet\n  Sure it's OK, just met the skinz yesterday\n  Tap the baggy drawers, lay the laws, lovely puff it up\n  For the ride, honey buckle up, smearin' all your makeup\n  CL can wreck it well a bombshell finishin'\n  So get the tunnel vision on how I hit the skinz\n\n  How I hit the skinz, uhh\n  It's fat, yes\n  As you know I like to flow\n  Don't try to show\n  Because I'm, the accurate man\n  Everybody knows it\n  Peace to all stealers\n  Of the Mount Vernon\n  Young poets and players\n  New Rochelle, the Bronx\n"}]