Lyrics:
Ight then
Dedicated to this rappin shit
They say I'm finna blow
I'm in da O
But if that flip ring
You know I gotta go
Hit the spot bag it up
Buddy callin
ah ah ah
Like come and throw them hunnids' up
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Yeah, I'm in the club, she gon' fuck it up, fuck it up, fuck it up
Got your
up, Mommy get your feet off The Table
The cable luck bare, my man got me one on his leckle
It's nothin' for me to get up with you, guts with you
Blow
some cap in my rap
By the time this shit drop, they gon' pay me some more (uh-huh)
And I still can go back to the trap
Send a box, pick it up, make
so drunk
Baby I don’t really dance but I
Can beat it like a drum
I stumble out the club being
Greeted by the sun
And really fuck a pound cause I
Get
a rich nigga, slicker than this
And if you see a hatin' ho, blow a kiss (mwah)
Bop-bop-boppin' through the club, I see it's ballers in here
Miami in
heart is worth about ten cents
I've been adding it up
To see where it went
The love we shared and the time we spent
Now I gotta get straight
I gotta get
snooze
Anything goes in the four
We ain't got no rules
The club just posted all my opps on flyers
Guess it's up tonight
Oh, he a stand-up nigga
Well, he
know
Designer everything
We let the money blow
Versace, Versace
Rock all gold, it's Deezy Rockiee
Pockets got fat, filled up with broccoli (Filled up
Blowin' on this ray, spitting game to these hoes.
Money ain't thing 'cause I got paper to blow.
I'm heavy in the game it ain't a thing to a pro.
Gettin' fed through his arm in a hospital will slim him up
Get it through yo head, 50 Cent don't care
I cock triggers, light the block up, iller than
Malibu on my yacht (twenty-five hoes)
I got twenty-five M's in the bank, no cap, no lie (yes sir) (twenty-five)
Run up an M, ain't trickin' (run it up
Forty dollars
And seventeen cents
I could get a twelve pack and a Big Mac meal
I could get a grip of scratchers, hope I come up on a mill
I could pay
The Club Crunk, I'm'a Make 'Em Stomp
We Ain't Playin' want to Front, You Can Get That Ass Stomp
Do It Like Them Dirty South Boys, Do, And Stomp
Now Where
to the club
To see what's up
Ride with me hey
Ride with me hey
So walk to the bar
I check my account
To make sure I have it
To make sure I have it
So I ask for
faking
And you don't ever seem'em 'round
Boys forever vacant
I was raised by the G's, if you fear it
Face it
Cause when it’s on, hood a scary movie
ooh, baby blow it like soup
I'm so hot I get paid to be cool
First class what I spent on the shoes
Baguettes guaranteed I'm getting this boo
Ooh ooh,
Hell yeah I swerve the lane (Ayeee)
Bout to blow up on that gas
Hell yeah I spark that Jane (Yuhhh)
Like Django
Freeing my niggas from pain ho
It's going
this
Oh it's that little fool again
This might be C's flow
He finna make me cool again
5 by 5 by 5
I'm finna turn that shit to a 10
You is not that guy
the station to channel live
That underground hard-core sound who said it'd die
'Cause if it is me and my nine's
The first to ride
For my niggas
Live by
more loot than before, a brute from before
Tell the truth and get used to leavin' you boots at the door
We four, five, sixin' it up, we fixin' it up
We
it in the bag
M.I.A.
M.I.A.
M.I.A.
M.I.A.
You know who I am
M.I.A.
You know who I am
M.I.A.
Steppin' up
In this club
I'm tooled up like a thug
Steppin' up
In this club
All tooled up like a thug
Rub-a-dub-dub
Rub-a-rub-a-dub-dub
Steppin' up
In this club
All tooled up like a thug
Hum V (V)
I'm surrounded by these RBGs
(HEeee!!)
We get green, roll green, and eat green like sebi
Born in them 80's
I clown like I'm Bailey
This
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