Lyrics:
to move it
I hope they have a plan
[Chorus]
These little black sandals
Are walking me away
These little black sandals
Are heading the right way
can take it from me,
He's as right as can be,
Ev'rything has happened that-a-way.
Eighteen years had come and gone
For momma they flew by
But for me they drug on and on
We were loadin' up that Chevy
Both tryin' not to cry
me wit' no other by the flow, motherfucker
Dedicated to all of those with big egos
Never fakin', we get the dough and live legal
Haters hate this,
when it get cold, we go at it, hoe
How you want them ribs smoked, family? Uh
Ten toes, know you on your shit already
Big stone, granite in your fist,
your eyes I'll bang your ho (bang your ho)
All she need is some guidance I'll tame your ho (tame your ho)
It's big pimpin' over here, man, yeah man
If
decided to sleep by the do'
Open my mind, try to slip inside my grandpa's fo'
Driftin' off into another stage of life
*** paid you price and big homies
hella p's
I'm doing big things, I got big dreams
Move out of my way, if you ain't for me
Feel like a winner, I put in work
So many years, man I
Where's that gal with the red dress on? Some folks called her Dinah
Stole my heart away from me, way down in Louisiana
Take me back to Tulsa, I'm
shooting it right at you
Look down I said right at you
And the hail falls hard
And the wind whips my face
And I'm a long, long way from anywhere real
regret it
So open up your eyes I got a big surprise
It'll feel all right
Well I want to make your motor run
And now our bodies are oh so close
like the way how you (Flow)
everytime you pass me (By)
Gal you wiggly jiggly and (Oh)
and you wicked to ras it nah (Lie)
[Chorus: Brian And Tony Gold
You're getting way too big for your boots
You're never too big for the boot
I've got the big size twelves on my feet
Your face ain't big for my
bang bang chiddy I'm a big problem
Tyga man in this bitch Vince Lombardi
Super bowl ring rollin red ferraris
Hundred thou in the date I don't say sorry
Surgical stockings marked his and hers
Guggenheim attitudes abck to back
With Jewish Baroque
No way street - no way street
Happy to see you, you have
Surgical stockings marked his and hers
Guggenheim attitudes abck to back
With Jewish Baroque
No way street - no way street
Happy to see you, you have
son
Trigger, bang, bang, yo, bust the slang, what my name?
It's the Redman on the funk thing
Psych, you're motherfuckin' right, tonight's the night
There's homeless on the streets
Of every city
Big city crime in every little town
There's people makin' money off of Jesus
And taxes draggin'
of the fiends, and- (what? What?)
That was back in the day
Now we involved in legitimate business, baby, we came a long way
Sometimes I hop on the road by
check my history eventually you'll get told the same nigga big dogs a damn fool a fixture in the game and I play it by my own rules damned if I'mma change
the way you work it
No diggity, I got to bag it up, bag it up
She's got class and style
Street knowledge by the pound
Baby never act wild, very low
I got are from soakin' too long when the ship got hit by a plane
And right here about four years back I met Grasshopper MacClain
The sun was a burnin'
But this is where I'm from
3-2-1 I can't cum
No other way
No way, no how
You know the bowwow do it Long Beach style
To the fullest young nigga
me the loot
You right about "Fuck the big three," it's only Big D, and there's video proof
Our sons should go play at the park, two lightskin kids,
_Cover_Art.png/220px-Jessie_J_-_Bang_Bang_(featuring_Ariana_Grande_&_Nicki_Minaj)_Cover_Art.png "Suga Bang Bang")
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