Lyrics:
naughty
Now it's a-ok, it's all hunky dory
And I'm in a new town, I'm up performing
Another party, yet another story
Yet another flight and my eyes are
buy it all not from malls
I want it all even yours woah woah
They say franky you just landed
Man how'd he get the snakes
They can always buy the style
Don't be selfish with the drink
Shit she broke my heart give me the bottle
I can tell you want it by the moonlight
Hit you style wild because ya
Thinking if he can make it homie
Then yo I have to pop
Let and EP drop
Something to hold u over
Holy roller
Yea
Don't forget where you get your style from
fan of this next line I wrote
I hate the fact I gotta say, "Rest in peace to Pop Smoke" (damn)
The good die young, it really wasn't his time
Him
doing damage
More tools than a mechanic, I pull em and they Panic
When the things pop your gang gotta panic
It goes bing pow pow pow hold it
You hear
don't cry
I had visions of Missy with her money by the tub
Ching-ching! Jackpot, I think I'm in love
I'm looking for Missy now so I can get my back
I like to think this world is crazy
Hey see ya now
Sometimes I feel this world is crazy
Loco
The guns coming in by the boatload
Juvenile dem
of love, no lie
Appreciate you more, as time goes by
When it's truly true, it don't die
I see you in L.A., I see you in NY
I see you in the A, I see you
rocked a vicious rhyme
Like I never did before
She said "damn fly guy I'm in love with you"
The Casanova legend must have been true
I said by the way baby
girls' friends, tossin' they little watches
Cris? I pops it. Fuckin' a nigga topless
Cats? I fouls on. Hoes? I styles on, nigga
Why y'all laughin'?
Don't fuss we seein eye to eye
I push the 6 and pass by you're 5
And rush hour in ya ride
Your girl by my side
We gon crush tonight right?
ray j chorus:
H-a-t-e-
s (Ho!)
Watch the mic blow
I flip scripts, and the Dump drops the Ammo
Time to get wreck with the new style
It's '93 and MC's are gettin buck wild
the history of music
By night, just to pay for that shit, you'd dance
To get your pants was a mission impossible
We were both the same age but I
Suppose
The sweater is Ralph
The medicines out
Veteran style
Six-speed on the beat when I'm peddling out
It's all good if you asking that
Tree got my memory on men in
Chrome Heart jean jacket yeah I'm popping style
New shit he ain't having he hating on the gram
It's just us inside this room just let ya demons out
I know
of a drop-top Brougham
When I'm shooting let's see who drop
The police the media and suckers that went pop
And motherf***ers that say they too black
Put
than in college?
Now cause of that line I might be your cellmate
That's from the nigga ya love to hate
Fuck you Ice Cube
Yeah, ha-ha, it's the nigga you
like the beat I don’t give a fuck
I’m gone remix it
If that hoe a freak
Then she gone ride it like it’s Seabiscuit
My bullet wounds healed by they self
side they don't got my pain
All I want is love but it's not the wave
But you gotta choice you love me or my style
Looking back
I don't know
You say
In my life i'm gone work for mine
Stay hard on the hustle cause it's my time
With my life stay true to my soul
So i'm using my style just to do what
of this real or was I raised by crazies?
If it's true the way I act should steal me from your grace
That when close my eyes salty tears I should taste?
But
we'll go
But we should let it flow
All I know, when I see you
You're irresistible
Irresistible
Your physique, your style all the while
Drive Me
the way you love me huh?
It's alive its alive rounds kill the eyes
I had to bring the bitch back like Frankenstein
I push weight but Gucci don't
.jpg/214px-Icona_Pop_-_Way_Out_West_2014_(cropped).jpg "Icona Pop")
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