Lyrics:
(speeding)
Runnin' through bands, I'm rich (I'm rich)
Everything president tints
I'm on Ocean with a bad ho
Top down, she got flew'd out
On the back seat
picking out my shoes
I'm never late to the party
If I'm late to the party with you
By the time we get there
Everybody will be drunk
The chairs will
the band
South America, baba-loo, baba-loo, ay-ee-eh, baba-loo
One favor you can do, ay-ee-eh, you can do
You beautiful lands below
Don't know what you
And they call to me
I wasn't in the bottle
Next to me
I'm down by the call
Maybe the sun
Where nobody feels
They gotta give it and go
She's
Probably 'cause I gotta tell myself another lie
'Cause that's what helps to get me by
'Cause I'm in Hell
This is my goodbye, farewell
Wanna hold you,
comprehend
I'm a monster with this shit, man, you don't understand
How I'm up a hundred bands, stackin' up the rubber bands thumb it out the counter jammed,
Two, three, four
Well, I came by your house the other day
Your mother said you went away
She said there was nothing that I could have done
Don't bother telling me what I got coming in the morning
I already know
I got some feelgood pills and a red Gatorade by my bed
Ready to go
I'm gonna
the trumpets band, and
They say they want the drugs to stop
But I'm a major setback when my album drop
I got that wet crack flow out ya mami's pot
I got that
on the bar
Jimmy in a fist fight out by the car
Everybody was some kind of star
When we went out last night
Well, the fact that I'm still breathin'
hear me?
We runnin' that pack through Chi Town, Memphis
All up through B More and DC
Back down south you hear me?
Lil' Mexico turf a gangland
I'm
gotta be rock and roll music
If you want to dance with me
If you want to dance with me
I've got no kick against modern jazz
Unless they try to play
feelin' like Yao Ming
Drippin' by all means, pour up an eight, I'm on tall, lean
You fill my cup, I keep sippin'
Wookie geeked up, he keep sippin'
I'm gettin' corns for my Country
At the Hollywood Canteen
The hardest workin' junior hostess
You've ever seen
I'm doin' my bit down here for
I'm gonna buy myself a small plane
I'm gonna crash it on the south line
I'm gonna sleep down by his quarters
I'd like to have sex with his
that bitch bonita
Knock the apple off any bum with the hollow heat seeker
Red cross bitch niggas, fuck the pint, she take blood by the litre
I'll
up in the Wraith, hit the plug on the way
100k on the face, keeping Ms in the bank
AK by the waist, no I do not play
Get familiar with the money,
Big bands pull up the Benz yes
Bout to blow all this shit at the strip you know what it is SP
Yuh yuh
Big bands
Pull up the Benz
South side known in
took off down the road yeah
When the south wind blowed
I traveled with the wind upon my back
I blowed away
I blowed away
Chasin' that dust cloud
with Kristin Cavallari
And when I'm in Miami, I'm with Kourtney, Kim and Khloe
And when I'm in the A, I'm with Ciara or it's Keri
I'm feeling like
class
It's bad enough we on welfare
You tryna to put me on the school bus
With the space for the wheelchair
I'm trying to get the car with the chromey
200 grand
Watch with matchin' band
I'm rockin' 3 clovas (why?)
I'm from clova land
I'm drinkin' gray goose
You drinkin' redbull
I hang with zero
Won't you come and go with me
Down that Mississippi
Well take a boat to the land of dreams
Come along with me on, down to new Orleans
Now
twang
I'm going to do things to your stuff (stuffs and things and things and stuff)
I got, my guitar, by my side
I got a band full of music, let's
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