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feat. Da & Retch
(Verse)
Four 12 kickers like itâs â94
Pop the trunk on em like itâs duffle dope
Keep a million units, I could see to it
Get the boulevard juckin like a thick booty
Uh uh uh do it
GO track a rap, trappin out of the Suzuki
Fall back, boys know exactly what Iâm doing
In the Vera Cartiers and the Patrick Ewings
Drop top with a chow chow puppy
And my girl in a bikini top, breakin down the tuck
Way she rollin coulda swear weâs going bowling
If I canât wear shorts then a nigga not going
Triple gold rims, not stolen
Twine got 5 cellphones on er, how you want it?
Call me up if you want that plug
If not, donât trip, weâll get back up
(Hook)
Uh uh uh uh uh weâll get back up
Uh uh uh uh uh donât trip, weâll get back up
(Verse)
Iâm the coldest, stack it til a nigga canât fold it
Rolled in with a bitch from Beverly, she said she rollin
Twistin up a blunt, sprayed I got 4
And then I filled her 3 holes like I was pullin
2 texts on my phone by the time a nigga dippin
Trippin âcause I fucked er, my Jordan one stitchin
Faded the limp, one brought up on hustle and pimpin
These messages get ignored if it ainât about no digits
Whatâs the deal, dawg? Iâm tryna touch a couple mill though
Fuck a ounce, Iâm tryna see how much it feel cold
Iâm Sam Rothstein, clean, grab the shakers
In LA for months, I still wonât bet on the Lakers
Head cracked, run it back, wutchu sayin?
Hold âem baby, sucka niggas never playin
Iâm getting head while I hit my bud
Iâm in her mouth and then Iâm out, weâll get back up
(Hook)
Uh uh uh uh uh weâll get back up
Uh uh uh uh uh donât trip, weâll get back up
(Verse)
I said baby girl âI do drugsâ
Smoke dope and sell dope
Bitch Iâm from DC, have the sexies off that cellphone
My motherfucker wire tapped
Nigga owe me money cross the country, tell em wire that
Fire that, fat breezy full of tracks
Loud pack, only smoking killa, hoe
Run in May season, Compton killa low
Fly shit, 88âers on him, such a pilot
I do my own stunts, lil nigga donât try this
My old bitch a dove, she got a new nigga
Happy for em both, I just made a few figures
Off the motherfuckin trap though
Walkin through the front but Iâm leavin through the back door
Asshole, put that on the regular
Rollin Keisha, never smoking regular
Never bruh, never us, only smoke that pollside
Get you high enough, high enough to go salute God
Yea thatâs death nigga, blow a ses nigga
(Hook)
Uh uh uh uh uh weâll get back up
Uh uh uh uh uh donât trip, weâll get back up