Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Wiz Khalifa
Wiz Khalifa
Vocals
Big K.R.I.T.
Big K.R.I.T.
Vocals
Smoke DZA
Smoke DZA
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cameron Thomaz
Cameron Thomaz
Songwriter
Gregg Gillis
Gregg Gillis
Songwriter
Justin Scott
Justin Scott
Songwriter
Sam Dees
Sam Dees
Songwriter
Sean Pompey
Sean Pompey
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Frank Musarra
Frank Musarra
Mixing Engineer
Girl Talk
Girl Talk
Producer

Lyrics

Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Uh) Blowin' kush smoke out the window (Right) Pockets full of hundreds, no singles (Uh) Pockets full of hundreds, no singles Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Right) Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Uh) Cruisin' down the street in my '64 Pockets full of hundreds, no singles My pen way sharper than a sword Keep your cool, don't make me pull a cord, my lord Was in the trap, see the cracks in the decor Still paint chips droppin' on the floor, my lord, uh God bless ya Smooth like Drexler Mind state trained to move itself like Tesla (Uh) Crime rate boostin' Chicks takin' trips, troopin' Profited from them trips to Houston (Really) GED, gettin' every dollar Countin' stacks, either that or get to bouncin' like Impalas (Uh) Have them jack boys all up on your collar And twenty-five's the new numbers for lows, I'll holler Cruisin' down the street in my '64 Blowin' kush smoke out the window (Hahaha) Pockets full of hundreds, no singles (Yeah, yup) Pockets full of hundreds, no singles Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Right) Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Uh) Cruisin' down the street in my '64 Pockets full of hundreds, no singles I was whippin' in the kitchen, whipped it on the corner I was workin' on the foreign, whipped it 'til the mornin', you was snorin' Pushin' on some buttons, turnin' nothin' into somethin' It was lint up in my wallet, now these pockets super lumpy Breakin' bread with my partners Whippin' on some choppers Stick my arm out the window just to shine on these boppers Just to shine on these bitches, recline on these hoes When your wrist game froze, tell 'em anything goes Gutter bass with the treble, mix the highs with low Woodgrain on the dash, reppin' wires with Vogues Pop trunk for the show, inside, it glow Chrome grill and the women whip wide and slow, hold up Cruisin' down the street in my '64 Blowin'— blowin' kush smoke out the window Pockets full of hundreds, no singles Pockets— pockets full of hundreds, no singles
Writer(s): Sean Pompey, Sam Dees, Cameron Jibril Thomaz, Justin Scott, Gregg Michael Gillis Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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