strip got gold, leten em boys know Ima hop out with the crease in my clothes chain on my neck, rocks up on my wrist dirt up in my piss, gotta partna named
so I look both ways Cop says, 'OK, my tint smoke gray' No way, nigga leave without handin me my shit Got plans to get my Land and my 6 Niggaz outta
in my hood Just doing my thing, got the ring bling Don't get it misunderstood Nicolette, LL, on the same track Bring it back, tell me what you, think about that Boys
P] Them boys from the south.. got golds in they mouth.. Don't trust them when this sun drought.. cause them boys will take you out [Master P] Nigga
me Rhonda Help me Rhonda Help, help me Rhonda Help me Rhonda Help, help me Rhonda Help me Rhonda yeah Get her out of my heart We always take my car
the radio on 'cause this is the Perfect Song! Wow-oh Keep the radio on, this is the Perfect Song! I met her crying while I got my car some gas she told
gon be fine You know I run the streets I drop my vocals before my niggaz stomp the beats I bring the heat, just like my name was Pat Riley I'm my CEO,
roll with the President Sit up in the Rolls maybe roll to my residence Stay around Fendi He love my spaghetti He let me do my thing he ain't never act
FOR To bump these hot boys, let me get the Visa So I can Discover your MasterCard Let's cruise the beach and then park the yacht at the dock at the beaches
these hot boys, let me get the visa So I can discover your mastercard Let's cruise the beach and then park the yacht At the dock at the beaches Don't
for) To bump these hot boys, let me get the Visa So I can Discover your MasterCard Let's cruise the beaches and then park the yacht At the dock at the beaches
'm going totally round the bend I don't want to see my friends I don't want to see my mad friend Because he's driving me insane I don't want to see my
my 64 Jockin? a bitch, jockin? a bitch Cruisin? down the street in my 64 Jockin? a bitch, jockin? a bitch Cruisin? down the street in my 64 Jockin?
swole Got my million dollar destiny under control Millions a fantasy, Juvenile's reality Bitch I write my own checks bitch I pay my own salary You want
wood strip got gold, leten em boys know Ima hop out with the crease in my clothes chain on my neck, rocks up on my wrist dirt up in my piss, gotta partna
run from my car with the top already let down I wanna be there waitin' when the girls start leaving town With my sun tan lotion and my sunglasses also
street to tha beach I'll be rolling Neva see me strolling, 40s I'll be holding Girls in the daisies, drive Eazy crazy Rolled up my windows as I turned on my
you've become an addict Alcohol, drugs, sex, sex (too much) Mmmkay? Look, him and his boys got duct taped for hangin' out at Suge's place. See all my