Search results for sweet spot 20 by flo rida

We've found 42 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching sweet spot 20 by flo rida:


Albums:

Tribute to Flo Rida (Wistle Wisl) · Rida's and Balla's (Mista Skrilla) · Sweet Spot (Danny Weis) · Sweet Spot (Kevin Toney) · Sweets for My Sweet/Sweet Sweet Soul (The Sweet Inspirations) · Sweet Sweet Sweet Music (Jahyute Revolution) · Waltzin' with Flo (Alan Dawson) · The Phlorescent Leech & Eddie/Flo & Eddie (Flo & Eddie) · The Best of Flo & Eddie (Flo & Eddie) · The History of Flo & Eddie & the Turtles (Flo & Eddie) – and 90 other albums »


the goons 'round me 
And yeah I rep my city, bitch 
I'm from Dade County 

[Flo-Rida] 
Ayy! 
Don't you for I really get 'em up throw 'em up, who ya wanna be?
That's what about rep that A-P-T's
Dope-Boy, just call me a Doe Boy
I'm that international boy, Flo-Rida fo' sho boy
Triple C's the second, I get it fo'
Cadillac fills
20 inch wide 20 inch high
Oh don't you like my 20 inch ride
20 inch thighs make 20 inch eyes
Hoping for American 20 inch pies
Pretty ass
fo'-trey, okay

I'm strictly stressin dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
fo'-trey, okay

I'm strictly stressin dirty dirty
Gone represent it to the t-top
Born and bred up on the street top
Get to the money and the sweet spot
gang, die for connect gang 

Throw up spot slang, watch and let my nuts hang 

Down with the 1-O, meet me in the jungle 

Fly, gettin high by
14 I'm a big tymer
I'm sittin' on crome all week shiner
My golds hang low
Crystal on the flo
I'ma flex
Twenty thousand dollar rolex
I got my name
Ten packs of backwoods bitch that's how my day go
Still got that loud pack bitch I'm on my j o
And my hoes don't roll no swisher sweets cause they
established
Livin out of hand lavish
Throwin parties ?
with big time folks makin big time cabbage
Become a savage, get swoll by ones
Twenty a drum's
ya own dance
DJ play my song, -Where dem dollars at- by Gangsta Boo
Plus another southern diva Mia X is coming too
We don't like dem boys who be all
an 
Answer to our ears and deadly threat that's posed by cancer"
On Prancer, on Comet, on Cupid, I'm Santa
Got more flow than Flo Jo, while I laugh Ho Ho Ho,
Enough to cop six, by the house on the beach
Supply the peeps with Jeeps
Brick a piece
Capiche?
Everybody gettin' cream
No one considered a leech
Think
Now I'm headed out the door to the motherfuckin spot
Got a G bundle for the brothers who be slanging
And an extra clip in my coat for foo's who be
the do', pour a pint fuck a fo'
No longer sitting low, changed my 4's to twenty three's
FUBU on my chest, platinum Roley under my sleeve
Riding V fucking
the do', pour a pint fuck a fo'
No longer sitting low, changed my 4's to twenty three's
FUBU on my chest, platinum Roley under my sleeve
Riding V fucking
Hoodies come in all flavors, all black if you think you're sweet
Sellin' grenades by the box, you'll get it cheap
Schoolin' the little n****s, kilos all
you're sweet
Arab sellin' grenades by the box, you'll get it cheap
Schoolin' the little niggas, kilos all in the campus
A passport is necessary Ibiza with
kid, I'd be your arch-nemesis
Blowing up the spot every time that I show up
Grow up before you get toe from the flo' up
Old skool like elementary,
herb, to make ends meet
And the smell was sweet (sweet) so so sweet
I'll just take a little hit to put some movement in my feet
Slow movement, slowly
Brothers on the corner sellin' junk 
got held up by the hotties got the shotties in the trunk 
You got the hard rocks wavin' glocks at the punks
Askin' "Does a certain Drayzie live at this address? Yes?"
The spot was hotter than the sun, without a doubt
I had the choice to go to school and get
sitting low, changed my fours to twenty three's
Fubu on my chest, platinum Roley under my sleeve
Riding V fucking twelves, keep the V-6
Me and Rich
and there I sought for the pay-streak of my dreams.

So twenty years, with their hopes and fears and smiles and tears and such,
Went by and left me long
a name, and some clout
And put down a lick, by shootiing his boss in his mouth
He stole his money, hid the body when he covered it
Peepin for his part,
riding non-stop
Till I die
I'ma win 
See it's time to make ends
Thinking bout how I'ma make it so I'm sitting on rims
20 inches on chop
Hit the scene