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*Young Chop on the beat. Band Camp.* |
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[Hook] |
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I touch a lotta paper, I been havin this *****t |
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I got a bookbag full of hundreds, I been sta*****n this *****t |
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Private jet to Las Vegas, I've been gambling and *****t |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (We ain't the average clique) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign) |
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[Verse 1] |
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Gimme the keys to the van, fi-fi-fifty keys in the van |
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You can bleed in the van, you can leave in the van |
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Take a chance with the man, then I'm squeezin my hand (HA!) |
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But the man in the back ain't part of the clan |
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Slapped him with the gun 'bout as hard as I can |
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Took the **** out the van then I ran with the bands |
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If a ***** try to follow, find his head in the trash |
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Smash on your ass, I'll blast at your ass |
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100-yard dash in the grass for the cash |
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Brick and a Carbon-15 in the stash |
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But he still got found with his brains on the dash (EW!) |
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You a big bullet, was a fool in the past |
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***** that *****, I ain't cool with his ass |
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Two bags of the gas, now the wolves on his ass |
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***** around with Gucci Mane get some holes in his ass |
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Fifty goons on me when I came to the Bash |
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Po-Po-Point a ***** out that you want me to smash |
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Two size of the trap, put the trash on the track |
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If that the only son track then it might be a crash |
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Yellow ice, white ice, little *****tty glass |
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Swear it's so sick that I might have a rash |
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Rollin a blunt while I'm hittin it from the back |
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Where your name tag at while I'm dumpin the ash |
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[Hook] |
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I touch a lotta paper, I been havin this *****t |
|
I got a bookbag full of hundreds, I been sta*****n this *****t |
|
Private jet to Las Vegas, I've been gambling and *****t |
|
And I'm in love with ridin foreign (We ain't the average clique) |
|
And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (Ride-ride foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (Ride-ride foreign) |
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[Verse 2] |
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Hahn! |
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I can't even lie, I'm in my own lane (GUCCI!) |
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Talk so much *****t cause I got my own slang (huh?) |
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Bricksquad is my own squad, I got my own gang (SQUAD!) |
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Stamps on the bricks, got my own 'caine (GUCCI!) |
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You *****s followers, don't got they own brain (durr...) |
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Tr-Trickin off but won't take care of they own kids (damn...) |
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This Gucci Mane and people say I'm on drugs (true) |
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I tell them people "go get on your own *****" |
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When you the boss nig-guh you make your own rules |
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I'm the only ***** that don't need no cosigner |
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And my suede shoes match my suede headliner |
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And my closet filled with the top designers |
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[Hook] |
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I touch a lotta paper, I been havin this *****t |
|
I got a bookbag full of hundreds, I been sta*****n this *****t |
|
Private jet to Las Vegas, I've been gambling and *****t |
|
And I'm in love with ridin foreign (We ain't the average clique) |
|
And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign) |
|
And I'm in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (Ride-ride foreign) |
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And I'm in love with ridin foreign (Ride-ride foreign) |
