Lyrics

I see you, now you see me I see you, now you see me I see you, now you see me I see you, now you see me Hopped out the whip, ice got my lips frostbit Boy I don't want your damn girl she got too many kids My shoes, zirconia, hook like James Toney I got infrared dots, the same size as pepperoni Chilling in the post, Riff Raff known from coast to coast I ain't talking bout that breakfast when I hit you with that toast I'm gonna fly continental, shoes presidential Acres aren't credentials, but my house is residential I done swung river oats, the palace up in Dallas Eating poochie salad, grape stains on the baggage I done flipped cross the atlas, across the seven seas Me and Licia' Keys push keys down TC Jester, and I'm a wood wheel molester Drop top compressor with my ken Uncle Fester I done swung with the best of, swung through the breeze I see you, nah you see me Yes I'm high and I been smoking On two pills so you know I'm rolling Out my mind like Kurt Cobain Bout to start slapping bitches like my name Rick James Bitches all on my dick cause I make a lot of money I fuck real good that's why they love my dougie OB type of money, keep my pockets looking chubby Fat, cute little nigga, I ain't never been ugly Heart of a hustler, mind of a G Player hating niggas can't fuck with me Gucci on my body while they all jock me And the chain on my neck land me a hundred G's Dope boy money led me straight to the bank Let's play a game, big back take little bank Get like you? Nah, get like me Tell? you need to let me Bobby B, hey Canary, Mercedes, crawling like a baby Drank got me lazy, iced out feeling crazy I feel cool, I feel straight, paper license plate Like that boy Wayne Gretzky, Riff Raff bout' to skate Down your street, down the feeder, tangerine Beemer Clothes out the cleaner, I ain't thinking misdemeanor I'm thinking kind of groovy, might move packs I done popped trunk on your grandma's cul de sac Riff Raff don't play, I'm a pro grade Imma' sit sideways at a Chinese buffet She done drove down from Dallas, can't be mad at us I took her to my room, you know, the pool palace You see I know how to propaganda,? boys at? park with improper handles The paint is egg nog, the seats is butterscotch The flow irregular, freestyle un-orthodox
Writer(s): Jason L. Bieler, Matthew A. Kramer Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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