Lyrics:
And there ain't no goin' back
Rodeo girl
Saddle up
There's no more credit in this bank
Try your luck
Up in the East
Down in the West
Hold on tight
bar, some other Friday
At a hole in the wall, right by the highway
Or down by the water, you'll come around
Out of the blue, baby, it's goin' down
stay
We're goin' hoppin' (Hop)
We're goin' hoppin' today
Where things are poppin' (Pop)
The Philadelphia way
We're gonna drop in (Drop)
On all
quick I drop a 40
Love all of my fans, I'm chasin' that bag, I ain't goin' back to where I started (I'm never)
I'm movin' too fast, slow down 'fore I
now! Slow down, switch it up
Mami don't frown, go down, heat it up! Hey! (here we come)
Full countdown, from the sky to the ground
Sippin Alize,
trippin', we ain't crazy
305, we at Ball Harbor goin' brazy
Red and blue flag, I gotta shoutout to them Haitians
Kodak keep your head up, Jackboy relay it
slow, sike nah
Dictating bitches and smoking Cubans
I'm Castro my life is like a movie
And I be the director
And just to get a small role
Got bitches
traffic, moving slow
And all I know is riff, what's goin' on?
I gotta hold it down
I can't let go
I tell the boys in blue
I'ma stay screwed up
It's
a kickstand
I'm from H-Town, Texas where we bar no plexin'
Suck it like DX, I'm a boss like Vince McMahon
Orange Adderall, got blue Vyvanse
Turn it down
dirty treated me like I'm not worthy by the way
Why I should fuck wit you baby make it make sense to me
Baby it's slow for you slow for you
If I caught
, down
Down to the ground
We had met online
You were definitely one of a kind
I couldn’t stop staring at those sky blue eyes
You really were the one for me
with the cowboy brand
Give it up fast, quick and not slow
Not goin' to the tables if it's not about dough
Son you know Mobb Deep is runnin' this
Gangster bitch with me, she'll spank ya
Swear to God all I gotta do is point one finger
She'll close range ya, hah
Drinkin' 'Tussin', nigga slow it down
with the cowboy brand
Give it up fast, quick and not slow
Not goin' to the tables if it's not about dough
Son you know Mobb Deep is runnin' this
look like they
Always smell onions
Ride by the elementary and kids cussin'
And it's nothin' new to us you could do to us
So get your weapon or player
Alright, let me in
Boom shakalaka, goin' crazy like a Haka
If I go shot for shot, you know I finna drop ya
We up in the stu' you know we producing
dummies doing letting you just pass by
Without a compliment at least
What's ya name, where you goin, tell me all about your story
He a lame, think he
the thermometer
Bitch got head like dun dun dun
Wanna see ice? Hold up my left arm
I told her
"Slow down" but she just kept going
My phone ring like a wrestler
Real
ain't arrived yet
Watch me take it back to prospect
Chiefing by the lake house for def' though super fresh
Skinny niggas vexed and my box logo is
a dime piece
(A huge bitch)
I'm here, I'm there, elf on the shelf
Got bars by the load tucked under my belt
Tongue kissin' your bitch
Dick her down then
My music ain't for everybody but I know ain't nobody fuckin with me lyrically
Physically they can't mess with me
I've broken niggas down mentally
I'm
better drive by me
We the People Army is known to get rowdy
And even if you a friend of the blue
You can get it too, snitchin is never forgettable
This
Coltrane and her cosmic strains
Still no vocal on blue black horizons
Your plasticity is tested by a formless assault
The sun can answer questions in
leave you cripple if you lyin', be
Tickle the butter soft nipples on the side of me
So muthafucka, let me slow that flow down
And bang an ol' mighty
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