cap and white one's that's me A hundred karats worth of rocks, courtesy of Johnny I roll a couple blunts, and load up the Tommy Ready to get my stunt
rock the black and back out Now the MAC back out, just bout to blackout Got the ROC on my back, SP on my chain Shooters on the block slinging P last
't no mystery Y'all been warned, about them killa bees on the swarm Y'all been warned, you either step or get stepped upon Correct me if I'm wrong but fake thugs never last
boxing) this is all day (beat boxing) this is hip hop (beat boxing) til the very last drop uh and let me tell ya' the last thing, imma' tell ya' it'
got me hood still Verse 6 (Trae) I still swang to the left 84's sittin' under the shoes These haters watchin' my moves from the way I butterfly'd the coupe
you're suck on some shit, we bust a nut on All you niggaz waiting for this bitch, just hold on Desert eagles busting at seagels flying the coup I see
alone in this fucked up world, it sucks dick. Everybody gotta problem when you cant bet. I be the last one, more like the last dragon. No swords to ever
Me I'm a bastard I hit the blunts 'til I gotta cough then I pass 'em Exhaust on the Aston That next choice you make might be your last one Shit that I
is drawn, nigga's will split ya deck, then pull your card, just try to act hard on the boulevard, you know it's me in the coupe when I'm speeding through
know what I wanna do without you I don't know what I'm gonna do about you, you, you, you Let's go, Starsky and Hutch man Fire and Stick, light ya blunts up Light ya blunts
lamp The last thing on they mind, is motherfuckin summer camp And eighty out of a hundred All they wanna do is clock dough, scoop bitches and get blunted
album or two Then I might let you sign my shoe, that's just how I do Everybody sayin', boy too souped up Nah, I'm just hot, plus Bentley Coup'd up Who
Gone with the wind, gone with the wind Gone with the wind, gone with the wind Sitting on my old block, reminiscing again Put the fire to the blunt, take
me that pussy too I be doin this shit on a regular basis Got bitches everywhere in all kind of places I can pull out my little black phone book Flip every last
Chorus] Uh-huh, uh-huh Geah Don't even worry about it though, you ain't missed nuttin It only gets better, they got the Maybach Coupe now Look like the
still [Verse 6: Trae] I still swang to the left, 84's sittin under Tha Truth and these haters watchin my moves, from the way I butterflyed the Coupe
Dickies, fitted cap and white one's that's me A hundred karats worth of rocks, courtesy of Johnny I roll a couple blunts, and load up the Tommy Ready
advised, advice for my advisaries Get a weapon and ride, Ice comin' soon With a hundred goons who all love to shoot shots Put a tunnel through your coupe