[Intro] Sippin' the peach soda Them niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Frrp) Sippin' the peach soda Them niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Frrp) Sippin' the peach soda Them niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over I'ma rap 'til the beat is over Two Chanel bags, the same price as my mink sofa And I move like the king cobra Slimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over (Earl on the beat) Frrp
[Verse 1] Sippin' the peach soda Them niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Uh) I'ma rap 'til the beat is over (Uh) Two Chanel bags, the same price as my mink sofa (Go) And I move like the king cobra (Go) Slimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over (Slatt) This lil' bitch, I'ma bend her over After I'm done, call the gang, I'ma send her over (Gang) I'm in tune with the UPS (Yeah) Waitin' on packages, KPreme gon' do the rest Got some bitches in Budapest Strapped with them Ks, they walk around wearin' bullet vests (Ooh, frrp) I need you to do more but speak less Youngins gon' open, uh Youngins gon' open 'em up like some Mucinex (Go) Give me top, baby, keep the sex (Go) My dick get bigger when I see a money check Used to didn't have a hundred bands (Beep) Now I'm outside with the gang doin' the money dance I'm in rush hour, roadrunnin' (Mm) I'm in rush hour, roadrunnin' like Jackie Chan My big brother was beatin' pans (Beat it) Lil' brother psyched out, he might go shoot your mans (Buh, buh, beep) Sunday through Sunday (Sunday) I got them bitches comin' on the runway (On the runway) Fuck with the feng shui (Fuck with) Break a bitch back like the wood with a sensei Fuck did that nigga say? (Fuck 'em) You wasn't 'round at the gym back at Lindley (Beep) Split
[Part II: Whole Time]
[Intro] Yeah Uh-huh (Told my slime Earl, hold it, uh) Yeah (Hold that shit down and they gon' see it) Uh-huh (You gon' see it and now he see it) (Really held it down) Uh-huh (Feel me?) Uh-huh (For real), uh-huh, uh-huh
[Verse 2] (Beep) Look (Go) I'm hated the most, I don't give a damn (Go) I used to swipe, finesse through the Skype Through the night, I would eat on the Grand Slam (Swipe) Don't be like me, I'm a millionaire Still ridin' dirty 'round town like Chamillionaire (Don't be like me, woo) These niggas softer than Build-A-Bear Penthouse, then make her eat with no silverware (Shit, ayy, fuck, for real) I'm crackin' this bitch like some software (Go) I got her boyfriend on my crosshair He talkin' down (Phew), go the sound I'm in New York, need a loft here (Damn) Bitch, I'm a motherfuckin' boss here (Damn) No, ain't no nigga soft here (Fuck 'em) My niggas down, they came from the town (Phew) They let it off here (Slatt) Audemars Piguet, ice me (Ice) Where I be fuckin' this Pisces? She wanna beat up a wifey (She was down) I like the baguettes, I like these emeralds Damn, them shits look like a icy (Ice) Different in school, check out the IQ I made more guap than the IT (Shit, yeah)
[Chorus] Nah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down) Yeah, whole time niggas never lied, niggas keep a hundred rounds (Whole time, frrt) Yeah, home alone, nigga run up on me, do 'em like Macaulay Culkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah) Two-fifty for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drivin', leave it parkin' (Fif')
[Verse 3] Lot of my choices was dumb shit Gang pull up on the block and they dump shit My niggas got red on their head Red on their head on some Trump shit (Brrt) I'm swervin' the 'Burban down Highland (Skrrt) Swervin' the whip on some drunk shit (Swerve) I'm not a fighter at all But I stomp his head, wanted him dead (Prrt, prrt, prrt) Won't get a foot in my conscience (Poh) These bitches hang 'round for the content (Bitch) It took me way outta context (Oh) My youngin' gon' blow like a Semtex (Shit, beep) Ill everywhere like some Germ-X (Yee) Just tell my nigga his turn next (God) Burn that shit down Don't play with me, bitch, I'ma burn up (Burn) Yeah (Burn), young nigga, earn that (Brrt) Don't speak on no shit you don't know about Before you speak on it, go learn that Shit, shit, yeah (Shit) For real, keepin' this shit for real (Beep) Three in the two like Shaquille I don't even know how to feel (Yeah, beep)
[Chorus] Nah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down) Yeah, whole time niggas never lied, niggas keep a hundreds rounds (Whole time, frrt) Yeah, home alone, nigga run up on me, do 'em like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah) Two-fifty for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drive it, leave it parkin' (Fif')
[Outro] Frrt, frrt (Go) Frrt, frrt Frrt, frrtTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
