| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Who the fuck else? |
| (Uh)
|
| Yeah, yeah
|
| Sworn enemies like rattlesnake and mongoose (Uh)
|
| I’m laid up while mami makin' mangu (Uh)
|
| I just put like twenty turbos on the Honda, shit from '92 (Ah)
|
| Surround my body with the Paulo Santo (Yeah)
|
| Yeah, bitch it’s Bronny and the Bronco
|
| Once again, ridin' in the sunset (Ooh)
|
| Blood inside my eyes (Uh), I can’t let it touch my son’s head (No)
|
| The shit drippin' on the BoJack’s with no napkins (Uh)
|
| Just made this one take, no actin'
|
| Already travelled back and forth to different galaxies, no cappin' (God damn)
|
| You starin' at the Captain (Uh), a young Eric Clapton (Uh)
|
| The all white B7 Alpina see me lamped in (Uh)
|
| Money green sweatsuit made by champion a champion (Champion)
|
| Fuck the blunts, double parked outside the Pantheon
|
| Feelin' like I’m Maximus (Uh)
|
| This type of shit’ll make the feedback flip
|
| Make the plane fly backwards (Ooh), make the college coach buy my pops a
|
| tractor then I practice (Blue Chips)
|
| We set him up through the computer, he a catfish (Haha)
|
| He thought it was Maria (Uh-uh)
|
| But it was a motherfucker that looked like Judge Mathis (Ah-ah)
|
| Pull the machete out the mattress (Oh, oh)
|
| Caught him slippin', he an actress |