| She get down right crunk, ahh
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| She love an east coast thug, right
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| She got a down south bump, ahh
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| She looking nice iced up, now
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| All that I know is I rock and roll
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| Do you tell, I got hellafied breathe control
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| Let it go, get bowl, strip clothes
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| Slip slow, down to the poles
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| Dip low, get dough, let put these dollars between yo legs
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| Bounce off the walls, careful on my balls, cuz they fragile as eggs
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| Got rhymes for days, heatwaves, that’s what you want
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| I’m that Kid with the Golden Arms, In the all black Saint Laronz
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| He bowls, he flaws on these broads, miss, put on yo lip gloss
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| So much junk in yo trunk, a monster dump, keep breaking my stick on
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| Bump-bump, yo body-body, bump yo body-body
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| Bump yo body-be, bump-bump, yo body-body
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| Bump yo body-body, bump yo body-body
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| Bump yo body-be, bump-bump, yo body-body
|
| She’s a cold dirty dirty, a cold dirty dirty
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| She gets right down to it, owww, she’s a flirty
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| She’s a fly young lady, down talk to strangers
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| She lives in Atlanta, rock platinum danglers
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| She’s so outrageous, she’s such a freak
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| She throw that game, better bow to her feet
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| She shake that ass, you want that sex
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| She so independent and she wants her respect
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| I know what type of girls I like
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| Big bump on the motor bike
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| Better tell her, I’m going fast
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| Better tell her, hold on tight |