Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Loco wit the Cake, artist - Ace Hood. Album song Street Certified, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.11.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: EMPIRE, Hood Nation
Song language: English
Loco wit the Cake |
Spent thirty in the mall |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
Five cars sitting tall |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
Ten on some Cali' bud |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
Then I hit the strip club |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
Glittered up my wrist |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
Went and Guccied up my bitch |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
Repping five with the pimps |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
I put on my whole team |
Goin' loco wit the cake |
Aye |
You don’t want to start a food fight |
Get your attitude right |
Before I put this cake all in your face and have your crew like |
Who that is? |
Ace Hood |
You ain’t know that’s Ace Hood? |
Ask around in every project they say that boy face good |
Put the Range Rover on them 24's I skate good |
Especially with the paper ice, all over my Ace Hood |
Chain, fuck a dummy I need hoes to educate me |
Good brain! |
Take the package up the temple come back home and get, paid! |
Seven days up out the week a nigga gotta get, paid! |
Quit your hating, get on your job, and ho you can get, paid! |
Like Ace, like who? |
Like me nigga |
That’s why every bitch you trying to fuck like me nigga |
I work them pots like it’s chemistry |
Got a F in chemistry |
Took the white and turned it green |
Now that’s what I call chemistry |
That’s what I call, Enterprise |
Call my work, The Enterprise |
Twenty junkies beaming up to Scotty in my Enterprise |
Smoking in my spaceship, floatin' through the galaxy |
They calling me a shooting star, leave hoes off through your calvery |
Gangstas, goons, and killers only niggas on my salary |
They all got charges pending |
Murder, burglaries, and batteries |
Niggas trying to battle me, end up finding they tragedy |
Laided out on the floor and breathing fast and looking up at me (Up at me) |
Play me in your Chevy when you scrambling |
Ruthless than a motherfucker with hundred grand on me |
Aye |
You can call me Mister Cash Flow |
Money out the asshole |
Thugging getting paper, what you think that Louis bag ho? |
Pull up in that stupid whip |
Hundred for the stupid wrist |
Stupid this, stupid that, loco with the money bag |
Lamborghini Murcielag', girl you got to stupid that |
Gucci this, Louis that, riding with them paper tags |
And my bitch she bad as hell, Juicy, Louis, Gucci bag |
All my niggas love to swag, Bentleys, Phantoms back to back |
Twenty grand I’ll show you going low and tell them holla back |
Pain you a dummy, blow about thirty on a whip and then |
Swing on them 30's |
I drop the top on them verties |
Switch lanes, on them haters, I’m throwing paper to make them spend |