Blak Pudd’n - Intellectual

[Verse 1]

Boy, be quiet, follow me and tiptoe

Don't wanna make too much noise, sneakin' in your window

So pull down the shades 'cause my neighbors are kind of nosy

Comfy, cozy, now off with the clothes-y

Can I get a witness? Body like fitness

Baby, we can do it, take your time, do it right

Mm, lick my belly button, whisper sweet nothings

In my ear to put my hormones in gear

Now mama's little baby loves toast and jam

Melts in your mouth but not in your hands (Black puddin')

Separates the boys from the men

You can knock all day, Jehovah, 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 puddin' (Hey)

[Chorus]

Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?

Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick?

I wanna get a taste of your pudding

[Bridge]

Must be Jell-O, 'cause puddin' don't jiggle like that

Yeah, ain't that a fact?

[Verse 2]

Pull out your spoon and let's begin the mixin'

Always in the bedroom, never in the kickity-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 whack undercover

So brothers, do your duty when it comes to the bedroom

(Don't let him eat the puddin' if he ain't got the head room)

So, dip, dip, dive if you wanna be a diver

Sport the helmet with a light like an old gold miner

No need to taste test, the puddin's always fresh

So, brothers, wear a bib if you're gonna make a mess

[Chorus]

Can I get my spoon in? No way

Yo, can I get my spoon in? No way

I'd really pay you Tuesday for some puddin' today

[Verse 3]

Now I eats more puddin' than old folks play bingo (Play bingo)

Parker Lewis can't Lose in Santa Domingo (Domingo)

What about Atlanta? (Atlanta) Shoots more gift than Santa (Than santa)

On Saturday night, I'm liver than Rosanne Rosanna-Danna

So, holy moly, a bear hug couldn't hold me

Play ring-around-the-rosie in Beverly Hills with Axel Foley

Jumpin' Jiminy, I express nativity

Here I come, here I come like Santa down the chimney

Girls think I'm neat-o, they're grabbing my torpedo

I get frantic like the Pink Panther swattin' a mosquito

Duh-dun, duh-dun, I guess it's 'cause I'm handsome

So give the finger to Orville Redenbacher and his grandson

[Interlude]

Oh, uh

(Hey)

Oh, uh

(Hey)

Oh, uh

[Chorus]

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 puddin'

[Verse 4]

Proof is in the puddin', 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 like my men cocked, diesel

And if you're unleaded then nigga, just forget it

You can't rub my back or kiss my neck either

With your sniffy, sneezy, coughy, achy, stuffy head fever

Undercover lover, in between the sheets

As the bed springs creaks, while I rips up the beat

'Cause brothers love the puddin' like Lucy loves Ricky

Joanie loves Chachi, or Mickey loves Minnie

But I hate gettin' hickies on my neck in the summer

'Cause wearing a turtle neck is a bummer

[Outro]

I heats up the mic 'til your blood pressure rises

It ain't the kind of puddin' Bill Cosby advertises

Pull out your spoon and let us begin

But if you front on the puddin', you might not get your spoon in