Lyrics:
you'll never know
Why are you so incredible?
Why can't I be eligible?
Did that shit, because I'm telling untold
Yeah and I'll go
I was a lost boy
I
the 411, hun?)
I know you got it going on
(Hey yo, I got it going on) (I'm a bad boy)
As I sit back relax
Steam a blunt, sip a Becks
Think about
is my number one task
Until I'm under the grass, that's why I'm top of the class
I'm a grit boy lookin' for an ass like Ketoy
Leave a bitch back all
snack
I'm Santa Claus down to Panama beach drunk in my underalls
Playing underwear volleyball with ya bra
I ain't bothered by your triple D's, not at all
the north side
Sea shells, and palm trees
I call you, you call me
Talk all night, mob all day
"Girl where you at?" "Boy I'm on my way"
On the beach again
two
I'm strapped, you strapped, let's play two on two
You're eyein' us in the iron bus
Leak ya, two liters of red juice, Hawaaiin punch
So what you boys
it
Shorty with the big ole booty
I think I'm in love when I see you move it
Got shot by big old cupid
Gone down the coast
Boy the ladies really know
and swings, so at the nude beach people
Think I'm lookin for lost rings
Play the skin flute Your big boy sings and if you want to take it all wear African
sailing back to Kona
A grand old place that's always fair to see
I'm just a little Hawaiian and a homeside Island boy
I want to go back to my fish
Zaytoven
Ooh-wa-ha-ha-whoa
Beach boy in the sun
Beach boy in the, aye
They say I'm too wavy, got water like a boat
Me and Zay the Navy, I hope
Yeah... Bucks... In The Bucks We Trust
I keep on getting better by the day
I'm working gotta an album on the way
I'm thankful for the blessings that
Fools learn fast, so I must be the fastest
Took all my classes, learned it by the masses
Surpassed all the masters, now I'm the master
Last thing out
here, but the tag is in the next bar
It's bullshit
I wanna smoke on the beach while
I'm getting some head with a breeze
That won't put out my blunt
She
for free
I got Milk and Paper Boy you cannot fuck with me
The date?
I'm paying cause I'm stacking every day man
Yea My girl is on the beach while your
boys that look like Johnny Versace
To meet you at Miami Beach
You wear black all the time, you look wack all the time
Got the nerve to try to pose
I never miss her
Red Head, Bad Bitch smarter than the average
She had boys in entrapments, I used to sing to her spanish
Driving in a Prius, she used
the crib on the floor by my two-way
Now I'm try'nna hold my hammer up, and my pants too
If they don't kill me, they gon' give me a number I can't do
these people albums I'm a charity too
I produce my own beats
I write by myself 'cause I'm a lyrical G
Record my own vids
Make a whole doc
Do my own media
already know what I'm about homie
I'm young I'm focused I'm just coming out homie
You can go by what you hear through word of mouth homie
Or step out
a mil before my album hit the shelves
And I ain't talkin' bout no signin' bonus (uh-uh)
'Tics went platinum to remind ya homey
I'm not a restroom so
the video!" Neeah! So there! You wanna do it or not? I thought, "well....f'king I'm the new boy, and I
should do it really, it'll be a bit fun." And it was, it
When I was in that jungle we was toting all sticks
You talking beef I'm getting cars flipped
Have a nigga screaming out ooh awe shit
The album coming
(BJ on the beat, boy)
Why the temperature say eighty degrees and I'm the only one fucking cold in here?
Maybe 'cause you're the only one with all
I'm going to
Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2
I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me
Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna
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