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Pocketbook (Feat. Ludacris) (Prod. By Timbaland & Jim Beanz)

Jennifer Hudson
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Lyrics

Give it to me Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook Say it again? Oh Don't make me hit with my pocketbook Check this out here Lookin' at my body I bet you thinkin' 'bout it don't you wanna know how I get down? Take a number baby you ain't the only brother trynna get up under my skirt now (Talkin' all your hot shit, stuntin' Think that you're God's gift, to women) More like a buzz in my ear piece Shoo fly don't bother me I got my hair in a ponytail and they on me trust me I can get 'em all They say I stride like a model, curse like a bottle Watch me as I hit the wall And I make em say Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook Tell your baby daddy he ain't holdin no weight 'Cause he got cake and no knife Ain't nobody cuttin' so cut it out, cut it out Alright So you don't know my face now? (Got it) Lookin' at me from the waist down (Crop it) Said I'm a hard pill to swallow fella But I can make you feel better I got my hair in a ponytail and they on me trust me I can get 'em all They say I stride like a model Curse like a bottle Watch me as I hit the wall And I make 'em say, hey Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook Don't make me hit you with my - uh Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook, hit it y'all Said you got a lot of nerve playn' with my feelings boy Do you always speak before you think? I-I-Lucky me I know the game I'ma flip my hair then walk away If you follow me it's on and poppin' (Is that right?) 'Cause I think you're gettin' outta pocket (Okay) Stop it (Luda!) 'Fore you make me Oh! Before I make you too what girl you know you want it You body's nice but eh you need some Luda on it So find a matress so we can start tookin' on it movin' it Baby 'cause tonight's the night for you to rock up on the mic 'Cause I rocks the mic (Right?) It's Chris mind freak in the back of a Rolls I know magic, poof, do away with ya clothes Then come here and let Luda give that body a rub 'Cause damn lil mama you thick as a mug Just how them southern boys like it Hurry up and give me your punch I might spike it Party in my? and yes you're in? So we can make a wet scene And win a Oscar all up in your best dreams Girl I think you know you're driving me crazy They jingling baby, go 'head baby With two hams in you pants girl I think you's a crook Let me touch what's up under that- Don't make me hit you my pocketbook (Aw you ain't gone do nothin') Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook (Go 'head and do it then) Don't make me hit you with my pocketbook (Luda!)