We Got Panache Lyrics - Princess Superstar Is - Princess Superstar

You know we got panache 

Style, sass, gettin mad cash, keepin' it under wraps 

Pizazz and class, we sit in the back 

Spendin' mad cash, money, money and we real bad-ass 

You know we got panache style, sass 

Gettin' mad ass, keepin' it under glass 

Pizazz and class we kiss in the back 

Spittin' mad trash, honey, honey and we real bad-ass 

You know we got panache, we gettin' mad cash 

Paid a dime a second like Diamond Dave and Damon Dash 

I spit, sonic gas, classy psychopath, psychotic, iconoclast 

I got an iconic ass, it's ironic how erotic my robotic sonnets 

Get girls in bonnets, hot like Harry Connicks 

Sick on gin and tonics, we, super sonic, hook you on our phonics 

Learned ebonics by Erotic, ebony dick and Mantronix 

Never stoppin' it sock electronic shit allotted the whole club up 

When we spotted it and if we wanted it 

Fill it with men and spawn and shit, ain't nothing wrong with it 

Let's get the party started, shit, let's get it on and hit 

High ballin' cat callin' no alcohol yo 

We all suck on a straw, a certain 

Je Ne Sais Quoi at the bar 

I hit it raw, never do look back unless 

We, like what we saw, never do look back, ok, Papa 

On the case like Steve Case estates, like Oprah's place 

Savoir Faire and grace, every hair in place, here's a taste 

No time to waste, do my makeup in the mirror while I sit up on your face 

We paid great and when we don't, got dates 

Dig in the crates, eat steak and masturbate 

Spin wax, make tracks, we laid, laid back 

Ladies get laid and stay up late at that 

Now we getting critical mass sass pinnacle 

Like the Citadel not minimal we hospitable, 

Mad kissable it's difficult, Aristicral princess for instance 

We invincible never divisible make you invisible 

Kit in each car kittens with Kit-Kat bars 

Kickin' etiquette from Connecticut to Zanzibar 

Strip malls to big balls 'n concert halls, New York Dolls 

Taggin' up bathroom stalls, we all-stars make folly North down to Raleigh 

Follow me, suck lollys down in Bali, all enthralled dollies, Arty as Dali 

And when Mr. Rodgers calls me, we allowed on his trolley