Lyrics:
BlaccHeartMafia came to shake up the room
We Spark it up Doctor Doom
Bow (Yeah)
I stand tall they won't catch me lacking
I am not a Crip they what's Crackin' (What
poor formal education
Top floors, cop rooms no reservations
Gold in my grave, half a ticket in my coupe
Ex cheerleader flipping now this nigga truth
Her kids never ate, pcw involved with her
Kids that she never seen shipped through to florida
Maxine dark skinned and bal' headed bitch mean
Pams right
a spark
Go to Jones Beach, get on the back of a shark
Have him take me down to Florida
I'm the flyest nigga down in Florida
Gimme the mic, move over, I'm
yeah,
They was the hottest chicks,
In all of Miami..
at least the Miami in Florida
(Chorus)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
The hot Miami weather
was well spent
the
Holes up in her room
What it do? What's the word, then?
I rap like I'm tryna buy my mom a
Brand new crib before this fuckin' verse end
Persevere type
Strange Music 10 years in the makin'
Hey man, this feel like I'm in Miami, Florida, man
But reppin' Kansas City at the same time
Yukmouth,
808 the way this beat knockin' (clap, clap)
Florida boy shit, when they hear it, they go to boppin' (ayy)
She a lunch lady 'cause the jaw she give is
here rock and roll engagement. And The Imbecilic Laws of the State of Florida, and the respective regulations perpetrated by Red-Necks Everywhere! Do
foul out
It's serious
Put me in that Lex', let her give me head in it
Put me in the room, hit her on the bed in it
Get me on the corner I'ma sell
gon' never foul out
[repeat 2X]
It's SERIOUS!
[Magoo]
Put me in that Lex', let her give me head in it
Put me in the room, hit her on the bed in it
somewhere on them drugs,
in a room full 'o thugs, 40 tell em how it was.
(*E-40*)
They shot my mama's house up, back in 1992('92),
I keep goin back
My white Christmas
Looks a little different
Than ours did in Virginia
Packed my car up
Drove it down to Florida
By myself thought I would miss ya
band
We locked eyes under Florida skies
Then you grabbed my hand, and
Right there under a string of white lights
At motel bar just west of Big Pine
With
I don't sit in my room and go back and forth
Up and down 35 goin back and forth
I gotta get. What my mama lackin more
What my... baby mama be asking
joining your pyramid scheme
I’m busy counting these racks like Paula Deen
Line round the block, won’t let you in unless you slick
I could be in a room
the best ones I've ever had
And now we stay, in my room
With my Christmas lights turned on and the spotlight always on you
It's bittersweet, the melody
would say I don't trap no more
Got zips in the fridge, got packs by the door
Got ya baby mama rent sittin' on the living room floor
Niggas just copped
that extra room
Fashion week
Straight designer in Estella mood
Proxima
Warp drive got that extra zoom
Spiked loafers
Gucci scarf
With the punk corset
over night night love
With you
Loving how we touching its a vibe vibe vibe
Me and you gone burn down the room yeah
Baby you know I can change your life
give you casket promo
Life is tragic solo
I got bad habits yolo
Glock with a beam
Load it in my room
I ain't asking my bro
Pull up the house, 5 shots
Eleven seconds wasted
Make the room is lit, that's code for bring the Franklins
I'm building up relationships and cutting off the fakeness
I know my
swimming trunks, and you can rock your two-piece
Then we can drink coke and Rum and pretend we're in the Florida Keys, and we'll
Sail away on the sofa
value mine
Speaking of volume, you mind turning this up high
In case the person in the next room's eavesdropping
And chose tonight to be righteous
Not
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