Yo, they put the top up today, I don't feel like talking [?]
Top up, cause I don't feel like talking much Slept on so much they thought I was a mattress White Allen Ivy, mutherfuck a practice Rock so much ice, I'm a hat trick Candy cranberry on the cutlass Ties black magic I beg your pardon in an Aston Martin Candycorned to Neiman Marcus Before I park it, I spark one Nah I just passed your pardon Matter fact I just crashed my Aston Martin So I don't have to park it You beefing on a Wednesday I'm a vegetarian Eating pork sliders on a Sunday My Muslim homies roll the windows down So they don't have to smell the aroma Peep my persona I paid for the gas Shit, I paid for the Jag Autographed the paper tag You can have it back A Uber car, I'm a superstar I got cocaine on my door jam Cocaine on my door jam I just served eight grams in a traffic jam I'm the chosen one I roll a blunt and push 4 ounce of smoke into my lungs 'Sace lungs, I'll point it out Smoke pouring out my mouth I'm a fire dragon Robbing, jeans sagging I'm Bin Laden I been had 'em I been did that I drive two cars, and both Cadillacs My feet on the roofTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
