Pull up with a ting, yeah, diamond rings out
Bitches all over (Ow)
Shawty doin' her thang, I'm on it, yeah
I need a chauffer
(La música de Harry Fraud)
Pull up in that V (Yeah)
She like Cherie when I leave
Yeah, you say we ride on these bitch niggas real quick (Yeah)
Let's get 'em
Now, every time I creep through the block, rooftop missin', coupe bipolar
Th-th-throw the top to the bottom, then the bottom to the top, pull over
Lookin' for a freak, legs up, sloppy, baby, come over
Th-th-throw the top to the back, then the back to the top, pull over (Ayy)
Goddamn, I'm...
Show me where the money (Show me), bet I go and get it
Everybody want the fame, but they don't wanna pay the ticket
Shawty said she wanna roller (Roller), nigga with some Timbs on (Oh)
Move a lil' rock like the old Tim Dunc' (Yeah)
She love me long, then she wipe me off clean
I'm at the dealer cashin' out, then I'm spinnin' off mean
Fuck them niggas talkin' 'bout? They won't get it off Chinx
Keep the burners near the toilet (What?)
Work under the sink
In the front, got them haters in the rear now
Closest niggas to me gone, I ain't let a tear down
Hate we in the game, we done fucked up their career now
They now how I'm on it, get it how I want it, now
Now, every time I creep through the block, rooftop missin', coupe bipolar
Th-th-throw the top to the bottom, then the bottom to the top, pull over
Lookin' for a freak, legs up, sloppy, baby, come over
Th-th-throw the top to the back, then the back to the top, pull over
Goddamn, I'm... (Coke boy, baby)
Mama prayin' in the room
I'm in the next room bangin' work, washin' knuckles
I need my shoes Christian
And my watch from Geneva and I got shooters from Chicago
I'm drippin', get your goggles
In the jungle with the robbers, if you walk off then you hit the lotto, yeah
If you need that work, [?]
Hit up Broadway, call up [?]
We in them jets, two hours to Cabo
No ID, shooters no IG
I'm on front line, money on my mind
Money truck, beep, beep, beep, flatline
Babes up front, you see them Coke Wave Boys
Foreign broad, I love, yeah, yeah
Babes up front, you see them Coke Wave Boys
And them foreign cars, Wave Gods, ayy, ayy
Yeah, they tried to throw the book at a nigga
Baby mama, she won't even look at a nigga
Waste of talent, uh, never that
Any time he ace in the deuce, nigga better back
Every time on my way to school, baby shared a ride
Had to watch for the pig, undercovers would share the trap
Max, you're not like them, nigga, you're different
Wiggle the dick, baby say I'm eccentric
Never mention my name in a sentence
Niggas be chicks these days, they need attention
Four door Lambo needs suspension
Too many potholes out there in Brooklyn
Too many loops from Harry Fraud, hood shit
Paid for à la, Bobby Flay, good shit
It's what's supposed to happen, we pushed it
Sautéing a nigga brain, cooked it
Now, every time I creep through the block, rooftop missin', coupe bipolar
Th-th-throw the top to the bottom, then the bottom to the top, pull over
Lookin' for a freak, legs up, sloppy, baby, come over
Th-th-throw the top to the back, then the back to the top, pull over
Goddamn, I'm...
(Montana caught a lick)
Goddamn, I'm...
(My wrist water whip)
Goddamn, I'm...
(Main bitch on my hip)
Goddamn, I'm...
Goddamn, I'm...
I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know, I know, I know
compositores: Ahmir Thompson, Charly Wingate, Jimmy Gray, Karim Kharbouch, Leonard Hubbard, Lionel Pickens, Raphael Saadiq, Rory Quigley, Tarik Collins
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