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Vita - Big Mommas Theme Lyrics



Vita - Big Mommas Theme Lyrics




[Jermaine]
Yo New York in da house
(Do, do, do, do...)
Brooklyn in da house
Uptown in da house

Chi Town in da house
Atlanta, Georgia are you in da house?
West Coast in da house
Vita

Everybody in da house
Baby, baby come on
Baby come on

[Vita]
Yo, yo, yo who that be?
V-I-T-A
Big Momma lady murders away
We play twenty-four hours a day

Mind on money twenty-four hours a day
It's hard to say or tell
When there's love in the air
So I continue to be Miss Dawg of the year

And take care of my peeps when the streets is hot
You need a place to stay just pull out the cot
And I swerve in the two-door car without no shotgun
Driver took 'em lukewarm to hot like lava

I not one that's forgotten
There's a lot of haters that be hatin' for nothing
With their hand out waitin' for something
Chick like me I waits for nothin'

Put in work till the cake come in
So breathe easy whenever you need me
Just yell, V-I-T-A know it well

[Chorus]
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gon take no poppin' off at the mouth
This is Big Momma's house
Those that get a chance to dance
They get turned out
This is Big Momma's house
One night spent here
Have you climbing up the wall
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gonna take no mess at all

[Da Brat]
You know how Da Brat-tat get
The dough stack what?
Ready for combat get your head cracked
What?

Could cook a steak up and dice that paper
Chop it up like onions to add that flavor
I'm fresh even your mami wish I was her seed
I rip a hole in the track as it bleed

I breeve on 'em and make 'em feel the heat
Obviously it's evident I can't be beat, what?
I strut in dem thirty-eight jeans or the fitted ones
Either way you still want to split something

Could it be the curves in the waist? (What?)
Or could it be the Suburban I push when I swerve through the place
(Uh) Got the nerve to not be able to be replaced (Yeah)
Haters can't tap in cause I can't be traced (Uh)

This my house, don't speak until spoken to
Disrespect me and I'm choking you what?

[Chorus]

[Jermaine]
No uh come on
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
Put your hands up
Put your hands up

[Chorus: x2]

[Destiny's Child]
No, no!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




[Jermaine]
Yo New York in da house
(Do, do, do, do...)
Brooklyn in da house
Uptown in da house

Chi Town in da house
Atlanta, Georgia are you in da house?
West Coast in da house
Vita

Everybody in da house
Baby, baby come on
Baby come on

[Vita]
Yo, yo, yo who that be?
V-I-T-A
Big Momma lady murders away
We play twenty-four hours a day

Mind on money twenty-four hours a day
It's hard to say or tell
When there's love in the air
So I continue to be Miss Dawg of the year

And take care of my peeps when the streets is hot
You need a place to stay just pull out the cot
And I swerve in the two-door car without no shotgun
Driver took 'em lukewarm to hot like lava

I not one that's forgotten
There's a lot of haters that be hatin' for nothing
With their hand out waitin' for something
Chick like me I waits for nothin'

Put in work till the cake come in
So breathe easy whenever you need me
Just yell, V-I-T-A know it well

[Chorus]
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gon take no poppin' off at the mouth
This is Big Momma's house
Those that get a chance to dance
They get turned out
This is Big Momma's house
One night spent here
Have you climbing up the wall
This is Big Momma's house
We ain't gonna take no mess at all

[Da Brat]
You know how Da Brat-tat get
The dough stack what?
Ready for combat get your head cracked
What?

Could cook a steak up and dice that paper
Chop it up like onions to add that flavor
I'm fresh even your mami wish I was her seed
I rip a hole in the track as it bleed

I breeve on 'em and make 'em feel the heat
Obviously it's evident I can't be beat, what?
I strut in dem thirty-eight jeans or the fitted ones
Either way you still want to split something

Could it be the curves in the waist? (What?)
Or could it be the Suburban I push when I swerve through the place
(Uh) Got the nerve to not be able to be replaced (Yeah)
Haters can't tap in cause I can't be traced (Uh)

This my house, don't speak until spoken to
Disrespect me and I'm choking you what?

[Chorus]

[Jermaine]
No uh come on
(Do, do, do, do...)
Put your hands up
Put your hands up
Put your hands up

[Chorus: x2]

[Destiny's Child]
No, no!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: BRYAN MICHAEL COX, JERMAINE DUPRI, SHAWNTAE HARRIS, TAMARA SAVAGE, TIHEEM CROCKER
Copyright: Lyrics © FOX MUSIC, INC., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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