Click the orange lyrics for explanations Highlight white lyrics and explain them to get Rap IQ™ (help)
[Verse 1:] I got dreams of gleaming wings and beamers Cream so obscene, ain't gotta clean my sneakers no mo' A close full of Polo, a pocket full of mo' dough I'm knocking in the voodoo, never stopping for the popo I can't forget to send my momma to the Acapulcos You laugh what, can't a nigga dream big A swimming pool, big screen, mint-green Benz Me and Christina Milian with sixteen kids, yeah I joke but a nigga mean biz' Lemme tell you how it is, nigga I got this feeling man, a nigga finna to hit the ceiling fan Viet-villian killing this shit for that scrilla, realer then I'm leaning, that mean I'm chilling, I'm feeling like Gilligan Nigga what is this a barbecue? So why the fuck you grillin' then!
[Verse 2:] If I'm back in the Ville, haters snack in they grills Ladies like 'em; got that eighties Michael Jackson appeal Homie curiosity, all these cats getting killed Niggas caps gettin' peeled, for that cash niggas Will run up on yo' ass in that mask rash and the steel Niggas laugh when they steal, I just brag cause I'm real Motherfucker I'm the shit, I pass gas when I peel Shit is trash bag, it's all about the last laugh Mad I got yo' girl turned over like a bad pass She know I rap, so I ain't even have to bag that Cash that? Probably not how I desire rhymes The dick got 'em singing, I could get yo' dime signed A Don Won type armed with a strong pipe I even put it on dykes, I'm smashing like it's Prom Night, bitch
[Verse 3:] You niggas must've got your marijuana laced I know some magicians make you disappear without a trace Out-of-state eating in New York with Carolina plates I'm the God, motherfucker, and how dare y'all try to hate You'll never shine like me, you could wear your hottest Bapes I'mma show y'all how to cake, I can tell your prada's fake I understand you think fly, but nigga you ain't got a cape I understand you think you gangsta, nigga you ain't shot a thing Them niggas bring it to you point-blank range, ain't gotta aim Yeah you see some players shooting, but this shit is not a game Badda boom badda bang, lot of goons, lot of lames Old groupie ass niggas like the clan, trying to hang By the way, since ninety-seven I been nice, I'm finna get it cracking like fat niggas on thin iceTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
