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PERFORMING ARTISTS
Baby Bash
Baby Bash
Performer
Da Stooie Bros
Da Stooie Bros
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Mickael
Mickael
Composer
Ronald Bryant
Ronald Bryant
Composer

Lyrics

Cold Chamber I'm smoking kush, gettin' higher than a plane (Swanananana...) And the Cadillac sittin' on the thangs (Swanananana...) I'm so high, can't control my brain (Swanananana...) Where everybody keep staring at me, mayne (Swanananana...) I got that bloom blap boom in the trunk (Swanananana...) I got a superbad babby in the front (Swanananana...) And every time, they see fly by, I be like (Swanananana...) Swanananana, na, na (Swanananana...) I roll around, made higher than gas prices And I don't even got a valid driver's license I'm pushin' luxury wheels, my pictures lookin' priceless My primo Pica and the clika hook me with the paisas They hang themselves when they see the Suicide doors I'm in the game, mayne, gettin' all them high scores Trunk quakin' and it's shakin' up my rear view I'm livin' barbecue, mayne, you livin' mildew I'm a factor, not an actor, comin' through in a Hummer tracker Got them pills and pur-falactic, mayne, that player's makin' racket That boy Bash be hustlin', he be handlin' Catch 'em out in Vegas, pimpin', panderin' and gamblin' Thugga flyin' first class and ain't talkin' about a plane (Naw) I'm talkin' 'bout the sticky icky sack of Mary Jane (Uh) So gone off the smoke, feel like I'm 'bout to crash (Roll up) That's what a nigga get for gettin' high with that Bash Paint lookin' splish-splash, Pops got me on they radar I'm tryin' to take you home, baby, I don't need to stay far (Let's go) Roll with the Thug, gon' show her Hogg love Cause you the baddest bitch I done seen in this club I ain't lookin' for no love, I'm lookin' for a freak (Uh, freak) Now let me beat it up, til I fall out to sleep (Hun) The boss dive deep, better ask around 'bout me (Bout me) I keep them girls sprung, they say they can't live without me I got that bloom blap Blap-pap-that, pitty-pat, pimpin' that idi-at Slap that back, that baby gon' clap, clap, clap, clap, clap Hangin' out the Cadil-liac Follow that slip, that sauce, that wet, that drip Drippin' wet, never slip I'm elegant, but I can't help that we melt all over shit Who you rollin' with I got that blap bloom That zoom-zoom, wham-wham, swananananana, I Put it in the air, put it in her life, fly by like I die-die-die Frustating, didn't see, know why Paint pretty wet with the butter in her tie No lie, we're high, all night And we don't care, hands in the air Raised with the shades, squares don't compare I'm bowlin' dowlie, dowlie, rollie, rollie, yeah, I'm rollin' And yeah, you better know it, if you don't, then get up on it, aw, ready
Writer(s): Ronald Ray Bryant, Stayve Thomas, Angel Lafaele Noa, Michael Zibi, Richard Rapacon Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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