| Yeah, this for all the real niggas man, ya know
|
| Woo! |
| Yeah (it's gon' be a cold summer)
|
| Hahahah, yeah, woo, uhh
|
| Gon' drop the top, you can feel the breeze
|
| 30 in the Glock, all you gotta do is squeeze
|
| It just touched down, all you gotta do is sell 'em
|
| And they gon' ask you questions but you better not tell 'em
|
| Hey I’m 'bout to fuck it up, I’m bought in like 10
|
| A couple bad tings and they all light-skinned
|
| «Hey, how you comin' down?» |
| In a rose gold Hummer
|
| Wife beater chinchilla, it gon' be a cold summer
|
| Got it snowin' in the city, I’m 'bout to change the weather
|
| So many birdies in this bitch, thought I was seein' feathers
|
| So many pussies hatin' on me, I just want the love
|
| Hottest niggas in the city, me and Mr. Rugs
|
| Them young niggas paper’d up, that’s straight from water whippin'
|
| Hey, between me and you I think the water trippin'
|
| $ 250 in my pocket, I’m a walking lick
|
| Went crazy at the lot, bitch I’m a lunatic
|
| My nigga Bleu got secrets he will never tell
|
| Free Bale, yeah you know he see me with the scale
|
| Indicator like I’m Mike, I’m fucking 'round with Jody
|
| One time for Raw Cena, that my fucking woadie
|
| One time for Ross, go tell 'em free the goat
|
| Tell him in the 305, bitch I’m in on a boat
|
| Got a 100 in my pocket, Free T. White
|
| Two mill' on wheels and they all white
|
| Gon' drop the top, you can feel the breeze
|
| 30 in the Glock, all you gotta do is squeeze
|
| It just touched down, all you gotta do is sell 'em
|
| And they gon' ask you questions but you better not tell 'em
|
| Hey I’m 'bout to fuck it up, I’m bought in like 10
|
| A couple bad tings and they all light-skinned
|
| (Hey bruh, pull up, what you in?) In a rose gold Hummer
|
| Wife beater chinchilla, it gon' be a cold summer
|
| Get-get that cookie money, on my Oakland shit
|
| 40 on a nigga, I’ll blow this bitch
|
| When I shoot, I don’t miss or I net that bitch
|
| Fuck her quick on the first night, I barely met that bitch
|
| Too much money on me, bring that firepower
|
| Knife on that chopper, they think Michael Myers got 'em
|
| The rap fold, I’ma go platinum still
|
| Cause I put my deal money in the blow, crack and pills
|
| I’m from Detroit baby, that’s a wild city
|
| Hop on at yo block party and give the crowd 50
|
| Aye Dex, when I hear that «huh», I know I hit it
|
| I still fuck with Paid Will, Dada winnin'
|
| Peezy and Pay, let’s come together, this our city
|
| Jeezy in the A, he fuck with Meech, that’s our nigga
|
| Rest in Peace to Great Lake ruler Darnell Lindsay
|
| Still hit the kitchen to whip, Chef Boyar-Grizzley
|
| Detroit!
|
| Gon' drop the top, you can feel the breeze
|
| 30 in the Glock, all you gotta do is squeeze
|
| It just touched down, all you gotta do is sell 'em
|
| And they gon' ask you questions but you better not tell 'em
|
| Hey I’m 'bout to fuck it up, I’m bought in like 10
|
| A couple bad tings and they all light-skinned
|
| «Hey, how you comin' down?» |
| In a rose gold Hummer
|
| Wife beater chinchilla, it gon' be a cold summer |