Strawberry Creme

(feat. Black Knights)

[Intro: Warcloud]

All you mad babies out there

You beautiful young ladies, this one's for you

Go out and shake ya little fanny, you fancy fuck

[Chorus x2: Warcloud]

Strawberry creme champagne's her last name

Strawberry creme champagne's her last name

Strawberry creme, strawberry creme

Strawberry creme champagne's her last name

[Warcloud:]

Liqourice and ice cream, chocolate chip cookies

She moves like the enchantress, vixens and belly dancers

Nah, playboy, that's you, I'm cruisin'

With a big bottle, cigarettes and groovin'

Watch her sly movement, chicks can suck my boing-boing

When we gonna join-join, back, flippin' a coin-coin

Keep the pistol tuck-tuck, slap it like a truck-truck

Glance at an elegant broad, wit a yuck-yuck

His dirty luck-luck, pair neck to groovy

I might go up to the roof wit pretty Suzy

Or another cutie, keep my music spooky

We touchin' mad tropical fruit, cold and juicy

Watermelon waterfalls, teeny bikini bitches

Silly, silly, silly, ice sunken treasure and riches

Give a champ stitches, turn the place into Fight Club

How many French maids does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Classy model chicks, an apple martini

I pour my champagne in a wine glass, wit peony

L.A. hustle, might greet you with a knuckle

And tongue kiss an actress makin' the place buckle

Malt shots and roller-skates, caterpillars on mint leaves

Malt shots and roller-skates, caterpillars on mint leaves

[Chorus x2]

[Warcloud:]

The bouncers give respect to the Black Knights vet

Might rock the whole party wit a mic and cassette

Apple stems and cherry pit, sweat a strawberry bitch

Shaped like a vase full of Indigo pearls

Pistol walk swiftly, ice cream on her pantyhose

Ask me to dance, I drank and dropped a sandy rose

Bowl of cherry Cola, evening at the club house

Black Knight berserkers, crowds is givin' love out

Might just rub out, some that look thugged out

Deep in the party, knuckles on the bar

Ice cold drinks, chewin' Malaysian bubble gum

Miniskirt Mom, lyrics'll they will trouble some

Bodies lay in the hall, a bloody ball

The flying birds now all fall, I stand tall

Cashews and walnuts, loungin' lavender lime light

An apple full of sour gummy worms, you couldn't rhyme right

[Chorus x2]

[Crisis:]

Sexy bitch, yo, you beautiful, do you know what I'd do to you? (What?)

All the above, you incredible, lookin' edible (for real?)

Girl you look like a meal in small bills

That's my brother Monk, maybe him and ya girl can build

[Monk:]

Casually step this, splashin', I the rugged Monk-Monk

This fine bitch glance, while dance, she backed it up-up

Amazed by my swift high pitch, she got stuck-stuck

Henny off the breath from the bar, fo' sho, I'm drunk-drunk (so what's

crackin'?)

[Crisis:]

Beds and backboards, whatever you ask for

Except kisses, hay and cash, what more can you ask for?

Oh yeah, only time I go raw is the jaw (where we about to go?)

Well shit, we rollin' wit ya'll

[Monk:]

So what's ya name? (Champagne)

[Crisis:]

And yours (Elaine)

[Monk:]

You'se a fly dame (hop in)

We poppin', I got the black box, go raps, let's go to Compton

Mistress crack a travel live, room 212, my entourage

It's waitin'

[Crisis:]

Patiently, damn this remy martin's makin' me see double

That and the weed made me stumble out the vehicle

Didn't let the ho see it though

And that nigga Monk, rollin' up some more weed to smoke