Dip-n-Sauce

KiLow Key, man, what up? That's too nasty Shawty see this sauce, I guess that's why she wanna dip though I'm who these bitches feel, they know the deal, they on my pickle Hope the way I drip these haters don't think I'm a lick though I can't afford to slip that's why I'm grippin' on my pistol I'm riding with that four-oh, oh-yeah-yeah-yeah I might take your hoe-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Pedal to the floor-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Racing to that dough-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Headed to them dollar signs Big ol' 40 on my side Whippin', grippin', on her thighs Shawty blow me while I drive I'm connected, that's my word like written in cursive Gucci shades, lookin' clean up in them glasses, dish detergent I'm Scott Hall and I'm Curt Hennig Clothes is dripping, Mr. Perfect Bitch, I'm splurging Bad bitch slurping, I hope I don't get to swervin' (Woo) I be gettin' brain while I'm switchin' lanes (Uh) Feelin' like the rain, drip on everything (Sauce) I'm flyer than a plane, he think shit a game He must wanna feel the rain like he Eddie Cane You could get it, pistol grippin', I ain't slippin' Ghost Busters, I was trappin', all them niggas called me Winston Bitch, I am of no religion, but my Louboutins are Christian Got that bag, you know I'm drippin' When I tee up, it ain't Lipton Shawty see this sauce, I guess that's why she wanna dip though I'm who these bitches feel, they know the deal, they on my pickle Hope the way I drip these haters don't think I'm a lick though I can't afford to slip that's why I'm grippin' on my pistol I'm riding with that four-oh, oh-yeah-yeah-yeah I might take your hoe-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Pedal to the floor-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Racing to that dough-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Girl, put your two feet up Slide up in that pussy with like two fingers and make it juicier She throwin' deuces up She left her ex and met the executioner I got them other niggas faded like a Boosie cut Girl, we gon give 'em hell like they was Lucifer, now cut the música It's just the two of us and my 40 cal, you know it move with us Don't want my money, all she wanna do is fuck Just tell your ex he better keep it cool because I will shoot shit up She said God sent the male of her dreams But I'm just racing to that door like the bell from the ring She said she can't wait til we get home to get this dick though Chokeslam a bitch up on a bed, I think I'm Big Show Pull her back and cock it, now she bustin' like my pistol Right after that we get dough, you know how this shit go (Go) Shawty see this sauce, I guess that's why she wanna dip though I'm who these bitches feel, they know the deal, they on my pickle Hope the way I drip these haters don't think I'm a lick though I can't afford to slip that's why I'm grippin' on my pistol I'm riding with that four-oh, oh-yeah-yeah-yeah I might take your hoe-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Pedal to the floor-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah Racing to that dough-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah