Beyoncé – If Looks Could Kill (You Would Be Dead) Lyrics
Sweetness flowing like a faucet, body bangin' no corset
Brother's wanna toss it but they lost cause my game ain't no forfeit
Slicker than a porpoise and thicker than a horse's
Carmen Brown got the whole town speechless
I stick to my thesis, I stick to my features
Brother's try to hold but they game never reaches
And most of these cats are like the middle of peaches
I see you lookin' at but what you lookin' at
You want a bomb, wanna twist me like a bottle cap
I'm tryin' to holler miss to see if you gon' holler back
Your game is whack, and no, you will not get your quarter back
See this is Carmen, curves like a cul-de-sac
Skin coffee and cream, your donuts, you ain't dunking that
But this is Milla, Lieutenant if you're wonderin'
And I'm Natheniel, (Mos Def) Mel Gibson (Sam) Danny Gloverin'
But I'm not hearing you, you might as well be mumbling
See, I have dreams, and with a man, what will become of them?
There's not a kid out here who can make me believe
I should postpone my goals, he got tricks up his sleeve?
Whole bar full of cuffs and you ain't locking me down
I got a warrant for ya heart, in the bed, hold the trial
Get a pardon if ya come with the sargeant now
Give me a chair cause I don't care I ain't feelin' your style
Yo, I'm tryin' to get with you shorty
(But I'm not feelin' you)
But I'm an officer shorty
(My looks are killin' you)
Murder one will get you under the covers
(Game talker or manslaughter I ain't feelin' you brothers)
Eyes like the ocean
Ma I got some lotion
Hold ya thighs, raise em' high and daddy long stroke em'
Hair like forever
I swear I could do it better
Take the gun out my holster, I still got the baretta
You brothers sweat Carmen like Patrick Ewing
But that kid
Don't waste ya time he ain't worth doin'
He just a sargeant, passin' out tickets for parking
Pitiful bulls barkin'
See this is Carmen, voice sweet as Marvin
I turn out lights with the switch when I'm walkin'
Girls steady jealous cause they man always hawkin'
Even got Lou lookin' at me like he stalkin'
And I got a mind too, wouldn't bless you
If your first name was Ha-Choo, on Sunday singin' gospel
You ain't a dime just a nickel actin' hostile
Headed for the big top and bouncin' on this side show
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