Lyrics:
p'tit break, une p'tite sieste
Des grosses sommes, une berline, d'la paresse
Une info faussement anodine qui ne paye pas de mine
Pendant que leur
What is that, crystal? (no!)
Dom p? (hell no!)
(this is that Carlos Santana champagne!)
Oh shit, Santana d-v-x? that's my joint!
(mine too, but a lot
fades to pink and blue
As I cry
In your arms
And if you wanna take a picture
Maybe we could make an album too
And fill it with some stupid memories of us
My girl back home
I almost forgot
A blue eyed kid
I liked her a lot
We got engaged
Both families were glad
And I was told by my uncle and dad
back, throw it back ma)
I'd like to spend the rest of my night with you
(Yea so how bout you, so how bout you)
I'll take your bitch give her back,
Smash down Lennox, head up to the 'View
Some reporter wanna holla and I said it was cool
Wanna know about the album and the Enemy's new
How P
is all I heard
ROUGH:When you start your day,watch the finance man tow your car away
HARD:To hold a job when you've been replaced by a little blue knob
to make it rain
Yeah, third album, nothing was the same
It ain't safe, it ain't safe, A-$-A-P
I come from The Bay where the cuddies say "Yee"
Touchdown
one up to my hood
It's the M.P.L.S. yiggy yes y'allin'
Niggas heard me stomp from Houston to Saint Balling
Callin' to the ring if you think you can
of yarn
Dolly, me? Am I? I'll trade a dollar for ya dime, oh
Idlest Delilah
Trout and trees remind me of my
Darling 'D the Diver,'
Diver D was a satyr
you'd stay
I'll just put on my favorite beach boys album
And cry my blues away
She was the reason I was singing
But then she took with her my song
So now
I'ma soldier!
Stick in my chrome receiver, and I fins to get it on
Influenced by the dolja
Blastin' at the rollers
Callin' couple of soldiers
ties
These blue strips gotta be first
I come from the shoe box street work
A O B im a P first
Gimme my gucci slides these christan lous make my feet hurt
I'ma soldier!
Stick in my chrome receiver, and I fins to get it on
Influenced by the dolja
Blastin' at the rollers
Callin' couple of soldiers
it up (bag it up)
I like the way you work it (no diggity)
I got to bag it up
Top Dogg, bite em all, nigga burn the shit up
D-P-G-C my nigga turn that
Okay guysD'accord les guys
Okay guysD'accord les guys
(Popular Girl x4)
Okay guysD'accord les guys
Bienvenue a Popular Girl
C'est Vendredi soir,
P-P-Papamitrou, boy
Fresh out the trap and they know how I carry it
I fell in love with the game and I married it
200 thou' for the walk
Looked in the mirror, what did we see
Fuckin blue lights, N.O.P.D.
Pig searched our car cause they day was made
Found an uzi, fo'-fo', and a hand
from the Lou, I got a whole lot of (HO!)
Smoking on some s*** from a barn they call (HEY!)
I don't pay for no p****, I try to stay away from (HO!)
If
It's not usual, the game be, all up on some South shit
Straight west coasting, you can tell by my outfit
Red 'nati fitted, "Blood in, Blood out"
And a mojo, big and fat!
I'm gonna play all night
Leave my worried Blues behind!
I'm gonna come right out and say it
I got P.R.I.D.E
Yes I got pride!
I'm
paralyzed by it
I'd like to be my old self again but I'm still tryin' to find it
After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own
Now you mail
when I stashed the loot from Woopty Woop
And the same exact place Biggie Smalls got popped at
Unsolved by the boys in blue
Hundred niggas outside
get a little piece of this
thang here like that there, trip.
Let a nigga from the E.S. L.B. D.P. beat that pussy
'til it's soft & mushy I love that
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