Tonight

Yeah, this shit feel good

Feel like walking down Sunset, mink on my back

Bitch just put that stackola in my hand, ya feel me?

(La Musica de Harry Fraud)

Pants to the sag with the preme on

London Drugs for you, on like its P god

Little homie you a nothing, you a peon

Bright lights on the strip like its neon

Tell that bitch leave the keys in the kiosk

When its time in the Lex' with the defrost

Send a bitch to Dubai to get peed on

Came back thirty stacks, that was me on

P you now I keep it cold like freon

Touch down in the zone like I'm Dion

On that 20/20 vision with the Buf's on

Talking like you're really winning, you'll get punched on

Hop out and pull the Toolie, you'll get bust on

Took a flight to Cartagena to get my fuck on

Seven Bitches in the telly with my tux on

Seven bitches in the telly with my tux on

Real P

Aye, aye, aye

Say, say, say

Biatch

Tell me what you doin' tonight

She chose and let her hop in my ride

If you scared to tell your bitch they inside

So tell me what you doin' tonight

Pants to the sag with the Palace shirt

In a 5.0 sliding thru the turf

Hit the homie serve on like he got the work

Cath me floating in these streets when I'm off a Perc

And I pulled a little full with my toolie now

And we fucking back stage like a groupie now

Everytime I hit the scene it's like a movie now

Got the top down I'm finna act a foollie now

Take the one train like yeah I'm heading uptown

To St. Nick, thuggin in a Goose Down

Ten toes on the stroll, keep a bitch down

Ten toes on the stroll keep a bitch down

Word

Aye, aye, aye

Say, say, say

Biatch

Tell me what you doin' tonight

She chose and let her hop in my ride

If you scared to tell your bitch they inside

So tell me what you doin' tonight