Come on, get out the way
The light's green, move
I hate these gangster-singers, with their music loud
Ma'am, ma'am, can you please turn your rap music down?
You just woke my baby up, damn it
Okay, I just called the cops

Don't you ever interrupt me when I'm listening to a Monica record (oh)

Yeah, straight out the slumming streets of ATL
I know you waited for her arrival
Through the hurricanes and tornadoes and thunderstorms
The climate has now changed, and the storm is now over
I repeat: The storm is now over
Let us begin
Hey, yo, Monica: Turn the volume up