[Verse:]
Shh! Boy, be quite. Follow me and tip-toe
Don't wanna make too much noise sneaking in your window
So pull down the shades
'Cause my neighbors are kind of nosy
Comfy, cosy, now off with the clothes-y
Can I get a witness
Betta fitness. Baby, we can do it
Take your time, do it right
Mmm, lick my belly button
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear
To get my hormones in gear
Now, mamma's little baby loves toast and jam
Melts in your mouth, but not in your hand
Black pudd'n...
Seperates the boys from the men
You can knock all day Jehova, but you can't get in
Maybe you can get a scoop, if you're really all of that
And you can leave your fake fingernails in my back
Now, I may not be a lady
But I'm surely all woman
So check it, the proof is in the pudd'n
[Hook:]
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick?
What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick?
What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick, girl?
I wanna get a taste of your pudd'n
[Verse 2:]
Must be Jell-O, 'cause pudd'n don't jiggle like that
Yeah ain't that a fact
Pull out your spoon
And let's begin the mixing
Always in the bedroom
Never in the kitchen
You can get busy
With your head beneath the blanket
Flip it, spank it, gettin' buck naked
'Cause women in the 90s want more from a brother
Than a part-time lover, who's wack undercover
So, brother, do your duty when it comes to the bedroom:
[Coko]
Don't let him eat the pudd'n
If he ain't got the head room
So, dip, dip, dive if you wanna be a diver
Sport a helmet with a light
Like an old gold miner
No need to taste test
The puddn's always fresh
So, brothers, wear a bib if you're gonna make a mess
(3x)
Can I get my spoon in - No way
Now I eats more pudd'n
Than old folks play bingo
Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo
What about Atlanta? [????] than Santa
Saturday night, I'm liver than
Rose-ana-ana Dan-a. So, Holy Moly (
No Clue What He's Saying)
[Hook:]
[Verse 3:]
Proof is in the pudd'n, so come get a taste
I know that you love it from the smile on your face
Up and down like a slinky, let's get kinky
The cream in the middle of a Twinkie
'Cause I likes my men cot diesel
And if you're unleaded
Then nigga, just forget it
You can't rub my back, or kiss my neck either
With you sniffy, sneezy, coughy
Achy, stuffy head fever
Undercover lover, in between the sheets
As the bed springs creak, while I rips up the beat
Brothers love the pudd'n like Lucy loves Ricky
Joanie loves Chachi, or Micky loves Minne
But I havte getting hickies on my neck in the summer
'Cause wearing a turtle neck is a bummer
I heats up the mike 'til your blood prssure rises
It ain't the kind of pudd'n Bill Cosby advertises
Pull out your spoon, and let us begin
But if you front on the pudd'd
You might not get your spoon in
[Taj & Sahpreem King] [Verse:] Shh! Boy, be quite. Follow me and tip-toe Don't wanna make too much noise sneaking in your window So pull down the shades 'Cause my neighbors are kind of nosy Comfy, cosy, now off with the clothes-y Can I get a witness Betta fitness. Baby, we can do it Take your time, do it right Mmm, lick my belly button Whisper sweet nothings in my ear To get my hormones in gear Now, mamma's little baby loves toast and jam Melts in your mouth, but not in your hand Black pudd'n... Seperates the boys from the men You can knock all day Jehova, but you can't get in Maybe you can get a scoop, if you're really all of that And you can leave your fake fingernails in my back Now, I may not be a lady But I'm surely all woman So check it, the proof is in the pudd'n [Hook:] Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What? Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What? Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick, girl? I wanna get a taste of your pudd'n [Verse 2:] Must be Jell-O, 'cause pudd'n don't jiggle like that Yeah ain't that a fact Pull out your spoon And let's begin the mixing Always in the bedroom Never in the kitchen You can get busy With your head beneath the blanket Flip it, spank it, gettin' buck naked 'Cause women in the 90s want more from a brother Than a part-time lover, who's wack undercover So, brother, do your duty when it comes to the bedroom: [Coko] Don't let him eat the pudd'n If he ain't got the head room So, dip, dip, dive if you wanna be a diver Sport a helmet with a light Like an old gold miner No need to taste test The puddn's always fresh So, brothers, wear a bib if you're gonna make a mess (3x) Can I get my spoon in - No way Now I eats more pudd'n Than old folks play bingo Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo What about Atlanta? [????] than Santa Saturday night, I'm liver than Rose-ana-ana Dan-a. So, Holy Moly ( No Clue What He's Saying) [Hook:] [Verse 3:] Proof is in the pudd'n, so come get a taste I know that you love it from the smile on your face Up and down like a slinky, let's get kinky The cream in the middle of a Twinkie 'Cause I likes my men cot diesel And if you're unleaded Then nigga, just forget it You can't rub my back, or kiss my neck either With you sniffy, sneezy, coughy Achy, stuffy head fever Undercover lover, in between the sheets As the bed springs creak, while I rips up the beat Brothers love the pudd'n like Lucy loves Ricky Joanie loves Chachi, or Micky loves Minne But I havte getting hickies on my neck in the summer 'Cause wearing a turtle neck is a bummer I heats up the mike 'til your blood prssure rises It ain't the kind of pudd'n Bill Cosby advertises Pull out your spoon, and let us begin But if you front on the pudd'd You might not get your spoon in Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/s/swv/blak_puddin.html
