[Intro: DJ Holiday & Dave East] R.I.P. Freaky R.I.P. Mugga We gon' do it for y'all I don't understand these niggas Holiday Season!
[Chorus: Dave East] I don't understand it Niggas lookin' at me like I'm from another planet This ain't happen overnight, this is how I planned it I just want to fuck, ain't got no time to be romantic Nine's inside the truck, .45 inside the Phantom Grams had the smoker's two step and we was jammin' We'd have shot 'em broad day, it wasn't for these cameras Nobody gave me shit, I feel a way when they comparin' I'm nothin' like these niggas, see him with they bitch, she starin' I got a little chick runnin' Saks Fifth, her name is Karen I gotta put these shades on in the club, these diamonds glarin' We all got guns, tell me, who do you think you scarin'? If Mac in the 'Rari, shooter gotta do the McLaren
[Verse: Dave East] Paid 1100 cash just so the bottom's red Jew told me bloody gainin' weight, hope he get out the feds Cut your hair, gonna be hard to recognise you without your dreads Clientele slow with the pound, here go an ounce instead Home invasions, homie, over any amount of bread Flip the fish tank, shoot the dog, make sure the house is dead I'ma flight risk, no ankle monitor, I prolly fled Claim you got the work with no job, same shit that Tommy said I don't understand it, before I ever got booked for a show, know I was scammin' We was Wildin' Out way before I met Nick Cannon End up dead, was boilin' eggs in the mornin', I was scramblin' I got chased for my biggie, my cousin got shot for his Vanson When I was dead broke, none of these bitches called me handsome I got my weed from Audebum, my cousin got his from Branson Couldn't sleep in the projects, now I wake up in a mansion Throwin' parties in the Hamptons, all these sticks think we campin' I'm serious as cancer, bartenders too boujee, I slid off with the dancers Strippers, I'm in LA, they treat me like a Clipper Laker, she fuck my Gucci up with all that makeup Jacob would have been my jeweler during the Meech era (free Meech) These Cartiers help me see better, rep three letters (HMC) I want my niggas all in ice until we need sweaters My whole gang gon' flip your wifey if she let us These diamonds on me, I got carats, I need lettuce I'm sendin' pictures, I write my niggas, they need letters You a opp or a fan, these Xans help me sleep better They wonder why I'm always in LA, 'cause Cali weed better It's hard to understand it I don't Jackson, I really had a thing for Janet Talkin' all that tough shit, come around them niggas panic Watch how I dap niggas, 'cause I used to hand to hand it Got caught with a hammer and they kicked me off the campus
[Chorus: Dave East] I don't understand it Niggas looking at me like I'm from another planet This ain't happen overnight, this is how I planned it I just want to fuck, ain't got no time to be romantic Nine's inside the truck, .45 inside the Phantom Grams had the smoker's two step and we was jammin' We'd have shot 'em broad day, it wasn't for these cameras Nobody gave me shit, I feel a way when they comparin' I'm nothin' like these niggas, see him with they bitch, she starin' I got a little chick runnin' Saks Fifth, her name is Karen I gotta put these shades on in the club, these diamonds glarin' We all got guns, tell me who do you think you scarin'? If Mac in the 'Rari, shooter gotta do the McLarenTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
