Lyrics:
at a beauty salon
With a baby Louis Vuitton under her underarm
She said, "I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm
Far as girls, you got a flock
I can
Uh, Straight off the back
I come straight off my back with a gun like I'm in Iraq
And in fact I attack and tackle, and sack and crack and crackle
Who want war wit em'?
(Uh-huh, Uh-huh)
[Chop] Take a fall wit em'
(Uh-huh, Uh-huh)
Back against the wall wit em
(Uh-huh, Uh-huh)
[Fred] Chopper City let
Slide
I should be by your side
By your side
If you want me to come thru
Girl you know I'm sliding by
Then I will slide by
Right by
Let me slide girl
bang! bang! (that's what I showed her)
Hey! make way for the drill team!
Hey! and the party we will bring!
Hey! make way for the drill team!
She ain't
ridin in a Caddy 500, bumpin Will Smith, gettin jiggy
When I looked up in the rearview and spotted - Damn, it's a piggy
License suspended, warrant checks,
at a beauty salon
With a baby Louis Vuitton under her underarm
She said, "I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm
"Far as girls, you got a flock"
"I
and skirt (skirt!)
Give em naps, give 'em dap, then I holla holla back
"Hey nigga where you goin'?"
Boo I'm checkin' my traps
y'all niggas done shitted
old crew
About my old crew
About my old crew
On some Will Smith shit
On some Fresh Prince shit
On some Will Smith shit
On some Fresh Prince shit
I love
Take it back to the place where you know it all began
We could be anything we wanna be
You can tell by the noise that the boys are back again
Take it back to the place where you know it all began
We could be anything we wanna be
You can tell by the noise that the boys are back again
Pop-pop turn your sweater to a crop top
Killin' you and whoever in that drop top
Etcetera, etcetera and it will not stop
Just shoot, shoot like doot,
live
There ain't a life I'd give
There ain't I bitch I miss
Aye and that's some real shit
UK imma drill keep a will like smith
Either in court a no show
what's under the bag its another bag
Baby
All you fucking brands need to holla back
I'm gon' live forever like Coachella
Call me Pac with the hologram
bouta get found by a fisherman
Yeaa, you guys is bitches, little girls
And Mr. Smith & Weston wanna kiss ya pussy pearl
Tongue kiss an angel and spit fire
Uhh, straight off the back
I come straight off my back with
A gun like I'm in Iraq
And in fact I attack and tackle
And sack and crack and crackle
over, Coroner come roll him over
And I don't just look real, this crook deals coke
Only thing whiter dog is Brook Shields
Harlem, holla back, how
purchasing actually
I take three laps 'round the store and get back to me
I might've calmed down by then, but maybe not, ya'll made me hot
Twelve hundred
to holla at shiniqua
Champagne for me and my peopa
VIP'ing, LBC'ing, DPG's, they'll be G's
Until the end of time, and will continue to shine
My games
questions with real shit
Ima bring the answer like Philly and Will Smith
If you label me conscious
Then I'm cool wit it
Too many black and unconscious
You
Let's party
Imagine the Backstreet Boys here with the Neptunes
Call it the rec room, play time now, holla
Pusha be one if you follow, slo' mow,
Brownsville's Jesus, white and blue Adidas
Got more knowledge than them Poor Righteous Teachers
Clarence Smith, Stan Smith, 13X's
Some will overstand but
Bambataa shit, home of the hip-hop
Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back
For foreigners it ain't fair, they act like they forgot how to act
Eight
ready?
Come on
[Will Smith]
When I was a lad I used to dream that (one day)
I'd earned the cream that make phat rocks gleam
Phat rhymes to make it seem
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