| Yeah, Milano, Cuban Links, O. C
|
| You know how we do things
|
| We always get our way
|
| Yeah, never pay when we play
|
| Know what I mean
|
| Uhh
|
| Yo, I only think of broads on two occasions
|
| When I’m blazin' and tryna persuade 'em
|
| To slide off with slick dialogue
|
| I even pop off a bottle of Remi, Milano got plenty
|
| Pocket of Benji', swallowin' Jimmy
|
| Mami’s hot already, Poppi been heavy
|
| Before I got signed, before I wore signs
|
| Why them broke niggas swear they only quote dimes?
|
| Or hold minds?
|
| And laid a law
|
| ?Forced into immigrant walls?
|
| Makin' mid high calls
|
| Like «Damn paso’s!»
|
| Y’all ain’t playa’s y’all just keep the bench warm
|
| While I run through 'em, like Stephon
|
| Get your game tight, I’m the exception
|
| A freak when I get my sex on
|
| Lick cheeks when the thongs come off
|
| Whip cream with cherry Hagen Daaz
|
| For starters, take shots with Polaroids
|
| Runnin' trizzy, call all my boys
|
| Watchin' Six get busy with a roll of toys
|
| Still keep it low poised
|
| Tearin' the club up
|
| My niggas wild and drunk
|
| Ain’t no stoppin' us
|
| From gettin' lots of love, puffin' choc-a-late
|
| On acid we got the rough
|
| Should we locks it up?
|
| It ain’t hard to spot us
|
| Pullin' the Expo slow, tellin' them hoes to pile up
|
| No wonder on the low, niggas despise us
|
| 'Cause we liver
|
| When we up in the clubs we lookin' major, hey luv
|
| We pop puffs, 'cause we paid up, hey luv
|
| Then it’s off to my crib for a night cap, straight up
|
| Forget the small talk ma we just wanna lay up
|
| Yea, stick the pretty thug
|
| Diddy bopper stopped by the titty clubs
|
| Pimpin' ain’t easy, like the shit I did with Willie Stubbs
|
| Really love
|
| Money, power and respect
|
| Honeys that fuck for hours in bed
|
| Sex in the showers the best
|
| Check out the body banger
|
| The hottest Pocahontas, she’s probably danger
|
| I’m not a stranger
|
| To the game so I’m throwing change ups
|
| Like willy fingers tryin' to figure her out
|
| I dig her style, I’ma find out what this chick is about
|
| Fuck the foul chickens, I need a money makin' honey
|
| A playboy bunny
|
| That never wants nuthin' from me
|
| It’s funny how she’s one of a kind
|
| From front and behind, top of the line
|
| Dimepiece, bright as the sunshine
|
| My kinda lady, maybe
|
| Drives me crazy, like Miss Daisy
|
| The way she shakes her acey
|
| Makes me wanna taste her pastry
|
| Maybe it’s the liquor talkin'
|
| 'Cause I don’t whisper often
|
| A simple kiss, will have her grab my wrist, and wishin' she was closin'
|
| This is more than just a portion
|
| Of my lifestyle, I raise my right brow
|
| Took her to the crib, and turn the lights out
|
| When we up in the clubs we lookin' major, hey luv
|
| We pop puffs, 'cause we paid up, hey luv
|
| Then it’s off to my crib for a night cap, straight up
|
| Forget the small talk ma we just wanna lay up
|
| Ungh, listen ma
|
| It’s only certain ones
|
| That get to slurpin' with my tongue
|
| Worsened by some
|
| Hurtin' them buns
|
| Workin' it luv
|
| Shit is worse when I’m numb
|
| Any hottie gettin' back shotties
|
| It’ll probably be hours before
|
| I seem twisted from the Bacardi on
|
| If the party on
|
| Strip like it’s Mardi Gras
|
| Brought the camcorders along
|
| Ladies, time to flaunt yours
|
| Get the honey, pour it on
|
| Lickin' your buddy, I saw it all
|
| Recorded it all
|
| So if you wanna be on that at all
|
| Got the baddest broads
|
| Lockin' they jaws
|
| Never cockin' it raw
|
| I’m not the AIDS type for blotches or sores
|
| I’m gettin' paid right, watch full of frost
|
| Even my chains ice nigga, alotta’s the call
|
| Some sheist whores, I see 'em comin'
|
| It’s like, once you pluck 'em, they pregnant or somethin'
|
| For dough they hunger
|
| Tryna trap dudes
|
| See I get my woman bashful
|
| Freak on the low, on natural
|
| Bank account on cash rules
|
| That’s an example, so what I’m tappin' your boo
|
| Laughin' at you (hahaha)
|
| Spendin' your loot, on casual
|
| Jewels, and shoes
|
| Don’t act the fool
|
| Like your screws loose
|
| I ain’t to blame
|
| See she wasn’t tame
|
| And I ain’t even have to drop game
|
| Born to rock game
|
| Milan', when my crew’s involved, this is how we swing
|
| This is how we swing
|
| When we up in the clubs we lookin' major, hey luv
|
| We pop puffs, 'cause we paid up, hey luv
|
| Then it’s off to my crib for a night cap, straight up
|
| Forget the small talk ma we just wanna lay up
|
| Lay up, lay up
|
| Straight up, straight up
|
| Ungh, ungh, ungh |