[Intro] She was coming on to me, I was coming on to her Hit the town and shoot the breeze, baby don't you fight the curves She was making love to me, I was holding on to her Hit the town and shoot the breeze, baby don't you fight the curves
[Verse 1] Uh, just give me that bass She listening to Ross now, give me that face I ain't tryna chase, tryna get to third base 'til I hit a home-run, 3-2-1, we safe Damn, she's a looker, ran outta liquor Sweet-sweet pusher, give me that Gusher I ain't tryna spit game, maybe we can hook up The Aston outside, so my nickname Kutcher Dinner-date time, down Interstate 9 I'm in a state of mind like "The dinner-dates fine" We can go to the condo and drink wine She wanna be my girl, but it'd take time She like, "Where the Cognac? Why we drink wine?" Cause the wine get you open, heard it through the grape-vine First, dim the lights, close the drape-blinds And I scratch that kitty, word to my K-9's Dope spurts, Chouffers, Big Grill gleaming Po-lar, Snow-Fur when it's chill season Got them Red-Bottoms, look like your heels bleeding I fucked 100 bitches, 'til this day we still speaking And they still creepin, got them still cheating
[Verse 2: Jim Jones] You sound like me in my Hayday God I'm still cheating, God I'm still creeping She text me on my phone, said her panties still leaking (Nasty) She came four times. Had the bitch tweaking. (Tripping) Jumped up in the ride. The loud had her Rican Then she went down. On-lookers peeking Had them dark tints, hard for them to see in She bust a move, lost her bra when we was leaving That's another reason to only let the freak in That type of action happens every third weekend Took all types of trips, 'til my Milage got frequent Shit, and my proposals came decent She musta told her friends, cause I hear them keep keying About this money, and the V's that we be in We getting money, new V's each season The Champagne caught me. Vision kinda sloppy Kicking it to this broad, but my speech was kinda choppy I told her let's split, I replied "What's copy" So when a nigga spit, you know we jumped in that hot V Damn, I think she caught an orgasm This gold-digging bitch caught a whore spasm I'm a cold nigga bitch, I had the Porsche spazzing You know the Porsche Wagon? 4-Door Cabin? I'm getting money, so of course I'm bragging I had the bitch high like she was on Saturn But they get confused when my door paded Why we smoking blunts by the port landing?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
