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[Chorus] |
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Fly, hey,hey |
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I Got dat trunk craked windows tinted,trunk craked windows tinted |
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Slowly rollin' I'm banging screw |
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Slowly rollin' I'm banging screw |
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Comin' down so fly-y-y-y |
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Smokin' leaf so high-I-I-I |
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Slowly rollin' I'm banging screw, |
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Slowly rollin' I'm banging screw. |
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What it do it's paul to the wall, |
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Chunk up tall, let the 4 screens fall, |
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Spider's crawl gon turn up that dial |
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And make they heads all nod like a bobble head doll, |
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Bendin' corners up and down wayside, |
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From greens road to that Antoine drive, |
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Crew on da side playin' N-B-A live, |
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I'm too cool for school ridin' on buckhide, |
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Turnin' heads when I'm on dat scott |
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Hit that french's for a quick pit stop, |
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Boys in the mail talkin bout they on top, |
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8 Months later all them boys flop. |
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Like it or not I'm the game and |
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I'm showin' up, keke got dat oil and we pourin' up, |
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Hit the club wit captain jack |
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And big Steve representin' my hood still throwin' up. |
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Big money in the gang as the bread grow, |
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Candy old school drop top for the low, |
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Boys used to be sleepin on me but the champ |
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Is here I guarantee that they ass woke, |
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Ridin' on spoke, dats the elbow, still rockin' in da ice white shell toe, |
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Dis for my boys by dat kelso and you already know. |
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[Chorus] |
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Yeah, I'm still on that five-9, |
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But might see me on that five-8 comin' down, |
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All over the town I like to get around, |
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Jammin' my fat pat screwed up underground, |
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Comin' down in the lime green eighty eight, |
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While them boys on the sideline wanna hate, |
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Bump a kid for ****in' up the state plate, |
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I Must admit my life's great, |
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T-Farris wit me in the snow bunny Benz, |
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Lookin' through a louey lens and we stackin' up ends, |
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Bros over hoes yea I'm talkin' bout friends, |
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Got freedom on my arm for my dog lil' twin, |
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Dubs on the rim that's t.i.s, |
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Just like pretty Todd I'm g-boy fresh, |
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Got oil comin' in and it's strait from da west, |
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And grill throwin' mesh on the cadillac crest, |
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Head of the best I ain't messin' wit da rest, |
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Santa clause sled that's pomegranate red, |
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Sippin' that taste I take it straight to da head, |
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And that swisha house is what I rep till I'm dead. |
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[Chorus] |
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I'm tippin' fo's and I'm sippin' fo's and I'm flippin' hos with my partner clue, |
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Posted up at that TSU or that Prarie View wit my patna Lew- |
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Hawk, boys get outlined in chalk, |
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Tryin' to run up and jack my slab, |
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This one here for my boy lil kee I'm throwin' deuce up and gettin' boys dab, |
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Pourin' da juice up and grippin' that ab, |
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Wavein' hoods so the base showcase |
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Settin' the trends steady choppin' up wind with a diamond ice grin, that paper I chase, |
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Taper fade by that bad boy shop, |
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Tippin' slow I'm screwed up and chopped, |
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Listening to some of that bobby merl, them choppaholics, maybe that Michael Watts, |
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Choppin' the block up, holdin' a full cup, |
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Breakin' a strut, now I'm on them swangs, |
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Grill and woman popped trunk full of bang, |
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I'm third coast raised and I'm drippin' stains, |
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I'm hittin' stank tryin to break that bread, |
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Slowed and throwed till the day I'm diseased, |
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Leaning tuff, I got cup full of stuff with a starched crease and a johnny dang piece. |
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[Chorus] |
