Whitney Houston Dub Plate               
             
Intro: 
Let um feel the beat first 
I'm bout to come through your stereo 
Should my rhyme start with the hook 
Start with the hook 


To my people who don't wanna go to work 
Thank God it's Friday 
Cover me she bout to put up her skirt 
Thank God it's Friday 
Do Your mom now you act so berserk 
Thank God it's Friday 
What's the track, what's the track girl? 
She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday 
(I wanna thank my hood) 

Verse 1: 
For makin me a star before I had fast cars 
And couldn't tell the difference between Whoppers and caviar 
Before the fame 
Way before things changed 
All I wanted to do was freestyle and get a name 
I used to work at the fast food restaurant 
For minimum wage 
Dreamin I'm on stage 
At 17 I left the house 
Cause my father was a minister 
And I didn't want the Marvin route 
What's goin on? 
Today to sell a song you need a video with soft porn 
MC's in the industry 
You wanna tip? 
Don't let them pimp you like Goldy 
And tell Sony they better have my money 
Cause I play wit the Comodores and be like Lionel Richie 
Low Income, I stay so hungry that if 50 Cent came to rob me 
He'd be part of my charity 
(I wanna thank my hood) 


To my people cuttin here in the shops 
Thank God it's Friday 
To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops 
Yo, it's Friday 
To my people that don't got no job 
Everyday it's Friday 
What's the track, what's the track yo? 
She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday 
All the Ladies sing 

Ladies: 
I don't feel 
Like cookin you no breakfast 
This mornin 
(Wyclef: All my hoodlums say) 

Guys: 
You don't have 
To cook me breakfast 
Cause your girlfriend will 
After you leave 
(I wanna thank my hood) 

Verse 2: 

For the love of money 
I know kids who'll slit your throat 
Friday the 13th 
Jason wit a trench coat 
But you can't scare Suzie 
Cause her man got so many uzi's you'd think he was Cadivi 
Meanwhile, she's getting her nails done 
Crystal clear so they could shine like wit diamonds 
It's such a shame what happened last week 
Man they found her under the sheets with a letter from the Son of Sam 
It said to tell New York I ain't sleepin 
You want to be clubbin then you better pack your heat in 
And to my man G Swar Rest in Piece 
I still poor liquor 
1 draw on the cocoa leaf 
Inhale, exhale smoke grasses 
Polices in the area, but ain't no need to panic 
You wit Wyclef you getting in 
If not, then we gonna make CNN 
(I wanna thank my hood) 

To my people who don't wanna go to work 
Thank God it's Friday 
Cover me she bout to put up her skirt 
Thank God it's Friday 
Do your mom know you act so berserk? 
Thank God it's Friday 
What's the track, what's the track girl? 
She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday 
Yo, to my people cuttin here in the shops 
Thank God it's Friday 
To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops 
Yo, it's Friday 
To my people who don't got no job 
Everyday it's Firday 
What's the track, what's the track yo? 
She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday 
All the Ladies sing 

Ladies: 
I don't feel 
Like cookin you no breakfast 
This mornin 
(Wyclef: All my hoodlums say) 

Guys: 
You don't have 
To cook me breakfast 
Cause your girlfriend will 
After you leave 

Guitar Solo 

(Daddy, play that guitar)   


             
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