Hey Mama Songtext - Black Eyed Peas

Hey mama, this that shit
That make you move, mama
Get on the floor
And move your body, mama
We the blast masters blastin’
Up the jamba

REWIND!

cutie cutie, make sure
You move your body
Shake that thing
Like we in the city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
And the way your body looking
Make me really feel naughty
Cutie cutie, make sure
You move your body
Shake that thing
Like we in the city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
And the way your body looking
Make me really feel naughty

I got a naughty naughty style
And a naughty naughty crew
But everything I do
I do just for you
I’m a little bit of old
And a bigger bit of new
The true niggers know
That The Peas come thru
We never cease (noo)
We never die no we never decease (noo)
We multiply like we mathamatice
And then drop bombs
Like we in the middle east
(The bomb bombas
The base boom dramas)
Naw y’all know, who we are
Y’all know, we the stars
Steady rockin’ on y’alls boulevards
And lookin’ hard without bodyguards
(I do) what I can
(Y’all come thru) Will.I.Am
And still I stand
With still mic in hand
(So come on mama
Dance to the druma)

Chorus:
Hey mama, this that shit
That make you groove, mama
Get on the floor

(So come on bubba
Dance to the druma)

Chorus:
Hey mama, this that shit
That make you groove, mama
Get on the floor
And move your body, mama
We the blast mastas blastin’
Up the jamma
So shake your bambama
Come on now, mama
NO NO
cutie cutie, make shure you move your body
Shake that thing
Like we in the city of sin, and
Hey shorty, I know you wanna party
And the way your body looking
Make me really feel naughty

But the race is not for the swift
But for who can endure it
And Tippa Irie and The Black Eyed Peas
Will be there
Til infinity (5x)
Black in da house
Nuff dem a shock, nuff sey
Dem a sting
Everytime you see dem
A pure bling bling
O wata ting, pure madelling
Grinding and wining
And de manna dem a move
In a perfect timing
Dem a dance and dance
To the dancehall rhythm
And de wey de tune nice
It finga lickin’
Like rice and peas
And chicken stuffin’

Chorus:
Hey mama, this that shit
That make you groove, mama
Get on the floor
And move your body, mama
We the blast mastas blastin’
Up the jamma
So shake your bambama
Come on now, mama
Hey mama, this that shit
That make you groove, mama
Get on the floor
And move your body, mama
We the blast mastas
Blastin’ up the jamma
(La la la la la)

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