| They got cups in here? |
| We might got some liquor
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| Damn
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| East side (Turn the beat up some)
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| Trauma Tone, uh
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| I could pull up with you a couple spots and have you poppin'
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| Open the door for you, I know everybody watchin'
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| Understand I got options and I place you on top 'em
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| But it’s your spot to lose
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| This life come with some rules, we laced in real jewels
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| Champagne ain’t nothin' new, swear that’s just what we do
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| Whether the camera on or off, we still lookin' cool
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| Niggas mad I been stuntin', so I hear they huntin'
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| My OG hipped me to it, I know how y’all comin'
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| You come run up on me, I swear, you get laid out for nothin'
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| My homies down to slide for me 'cause they really love me, uh
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| Shout out my watch, it’s real, shout out my bitch, she real
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| Shout out my hood, they real, shout out my label, it’s real
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| Shout out my watch, it’s real, shout out my bitch, she real
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| Shout out my niggas, they real, shout out my Phantom grill
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| East side on mine just like every time, lowriders outside
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| Got foreigns in a line because I can’t decide
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| Which one I’m tryna drive, I’m, like, too fuckin' high
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| But, yeah, I’m still gon' slide, might take that sixty-five
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| I’ma pick you up, I might show you off
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| Put some diamonds on your neck, baby, fuck the cost
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| We turnin' heads when we walk, skin so soft
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| Leather so soft, adjustable exhaust, I’m cattin' off
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| I told you I can show you what we go through
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| Now, baby, quit playin' and come fuck with a boss
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| We poppin' Ace of Spades bottles for no reason at all
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| I was just checkin' on you, that’s the reason I called (How you doin', baby?)
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| I keep shit lit, that’s it, look at my wrist, that’s him
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| Look at my bitch, God damn, bitch got ass like sheesh
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| I’m that nigga still, shout out my bitch, she real
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| AP watches still, bitch, I’m healthy still
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| Shout out my watch, it’s real, shout out my bitch, she real
|
| Shout out my hood, they real, shout out my label, it’s real
|
| Shout out my watch, it’s real, shout out my bitch, she real
|
| Shout out my niggas, they real, shout out my Phantom grill
|
| East side on mine just like every time, lowriders outside
|
| Got foreigns in a line because I can’t decide
|
| Which one I’m tryna drive, I’m, like, too fuckin' high
|
| But, yeah, I’m still gon' slide, might take that sixty-five |