Lyrics:
Beach soulja, hold ya horses
Porsche's, Rolls, Royce's
Decisions, choices, make 'em
Puerto Rican face, but her booty is Jamaican
Breasts Brazilian,
gorgeous ladies(yea man)
There is no need to be acting shady
Come on baby, hey hey baby
When you rock your hips you know that it amaze me
Got me off
(chorus)
Why you mad foe?(why you mad foe) why you hating foe??(why you hating foe)?
Soulja boy tell em what the street been waiting foe now am sign
we the best
And I'm down in Miami
Ridin' in the phantom
Somewhere by south beach
Soulja boy tell em
Got a million dollar mouth piece
On my dog
are ways of telling whether
she is a witch.
CROWD: Are there? What are they?
BEDEMIR: Tell me, what do you do with witches?
VILLAGER #2: Burn!
at first now there's tape on them (big boy)
Damn, when those come out so I write the date on 'em (big boy)
These Louis Vuitton ones, you gotta wait on them
a champion
While other niggas crashing em, hey I'm just steady mashin' 'em.
Tell 'em what you told me
Tell 'em what you told me
Tell 'em what you told me
at first now there's tape on them (big boy)
Damn, when those come out so I write the date on 'em (big boy)
These Louis Vuitton ones, you gotta wait on them
I'm-I'm-I'm connected everywhere (that's the homie)
Everywhere I go all of the people know my name
It's ya big homie Snoopy, just tell 'em you with me
I
a pause on the clock
Like a time out
with you there’s no doubt
That ill crank that with you till we hit the grave
Party every day
Soulja boy fan club till
[Soulja Slim]
A-K-A Gun Smoke, yep, as if you didn't know bitch ass nigga
Nigga you could expect nothin' but war shit
When dat nigga Soulja Slim
to 'caine
Not what B-dawg said, I respect the game
G-D's, vice lords, crips the same
And I know you're 'bout to say this off the chain
Tell 'em fake
to 'caine
Not what B-dawg said, I respect the game
G-D's, vice lords, crips the same
And I know you're 'bout to say this off the chain
Tell 'em fake
ballin now)
Since you play me closer, I'm a get the toast, oh mark my word
Fuck em, fuck em if they don't know what's happen my rap
If a nigga
shades too silly cause they made by Cavalli
Jays so excited, you can't find 'em lil' buddy
I'm not Nick Cannon, but I'm "Wild'n Out" clubbin'
Watchin'
remember I was a water boy
No wakin up n smellin roses we smelt gun smoke
Smoked em like piff we light yo ass up wen our guns blow
You Hea me talk in slangs
out my pocket; can't stop it (uhh)
All you can do now boy is just respect it
I ain't par tomorrow but the E is connected
Look what happens when you spin
they ask me 'bout the cars, and the girls, and the cribs
I just tell 'em it's what I do (it's what I do)
It's what I do, hey, it's what I do
it
Drunk an eighth then I drop dead I don't think that they know I'm on it
The red light I got stopped there I could tell 12 by only
Showed 'em my
When you face the D-line your bottom lip will quiver
I trust the boys on this team, yeah I'd give 'em my life
Even though half of them are duller than
still alive, you better be lucky, ain't no traffickin'
Hate they ass so much, we dig 'em up and tell 'em, "Die again"
I can hit the club all by myself
the Phantom, have you wishin' you had 'em, I'm the madam)
And there ain't no returns at the Cuchi Shop (hey)
We don't wanna hear "it burns" at the Cuchi Shop
spit the Word any time you hear ya boy flowin'
So please plagerize me, take my word for it
Hey I'm Lecrae, but you can call me "Crayola"
Not because
Not what B-dawg said, I respect the game
G-D's, vice lords, crips the same
And I know you're 'bout to say this off the chain
Tell 'em fake trappin' ass
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