Lyrics:
big, it should be wearin' a Coogi
Imma need some friends
Tie dyed my lifestyle
Even bleached the pants
Next week Japan
Thom Browne bubble lens, I
big, it should be wearin' a Coogi
Imma need some friends
Tie dyed my lifestyle
Even bleached the pants
Next week Japan
Thom Browne bubble lens, I
(ayy)
'Fore we catch them outside and hit they ass with them choppers (choppers)
The .45 make my pants sag (sag)
Catch me bouncin' through the club
yo money up yeah
I get my money up my money up my money up yeah
You ain't gotta ask got the thang on me
Fill the bag because I'm moe
Money gang
looking good in all my angles without saying cheese
I was walking down the street
My pants was held by LouisV
I heard my phone calling
Labels reaching out
eeny meeny miny moe
I got racks I tell them when to go
I got racks I tell them when to shoot
They gone blow that
I smoke this shit by the bow, and you
automatic all them tools man they fucking grown
Eeny meeny miny moe boy the shooters gonna knock your toes
Sipping on blood man we having a toast
They know my
off ramp
The boy scout in my pants (pants)
Is busy setting up his camp (camp)
Didn't see the red light, speeding by
With a semi gonna hit the semi
a bowl with my Somali nigga
I'm Nick Cavett too
I got the racks and saggin' too
My pants damn near my shoes
And when the waitress look at the table
She
around forever
I'll be flying by the seat of my pants you see I've got
Better thing to do than waste my time looking for you
It's like this, I'll
penetrate my way through the game and figured I’d make a lane
Never change
Holes in my close and plus I
(H)
Sag my pants, I smoke, I curse
Fuck y’all
fit an elephant
Reclinin' my seat because she said she was celibate
I just came from Saks Fifth, I don't know what I bought or the cost
I don't care
i said "come here bitch" she said "What fo'"
She grabbed me by the pants and open up the do'
She pulled out her titties said she likes kinky stuff
Milly Rock-ing through Manhattan
Kobe retired and Brooklyn on the bandwagon
Hundred bands in my pockets got my pants sagging
My granny still tell
the streets with a grip in my Fist
Killed all my comp you could tell by The stench
Body bag dumpa homicides lookin like Grocery list
Last time I checked it was
easy, I got up and fucking grind
So smoke a gram of three
Calling up like what you need
Just meet me at my door, take a seat and get yo weed
Gettin’ ready
It was all a dream
Nothing's what it seems
Get it by any means
I do it for my team
For this music I'm a feine
Sola is the theme
Eargasm make you
Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe, let's hang a bigot by his toes
Get rid of the ones who be speaking the truth but bitch you know more'll come after them too
my heart up
got a laugh and flew by
tried to take my pants but the louie too tight
now I feel a change smile and my fangs bright
can't even breath
like this beat, see
Rapping off-kilter
Sometimes I hit the cigarette without no filter
I like it when it's lag-time
Let-my-pants-sag time
Let go and let
leaving by the seat of my pants
She said go on get out and have a good time
Don't bother coming home if you can't bring me mine
[Chorus: x2]
the wind on my elbow
But I'm driving by the seat of my pants
I keep on tryin' to tune in, tune in on the radio
Trying to tune me out of my trance
I
the band
We can do it all just because we can
(Hey hey) Come on now
We don't need no plans (hey)
Just fly by the seat of our pants
We can do it all just
my lungs (smoke)
Arabian bitch in the passenger seat
Now she got a illegal bomb (bomb)
Baguette, the charm, rainbow, Daytona
I like to charm
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