| I’m icy, I’m icy, I’m icy, I’m icy, I’m icy, I’m icy
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| I’m icy, I’m icy
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| All these girls excited
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| Oooo ya know they like it
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| I’m so icy, so icy
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| Girl don’t try to fight it All yo friends invited
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| I’m so icy, so icy
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| Got a house around my neck, and my wrist on chill
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| Any given time, 250 in ya grill (a quarter million?)
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| All I do is talk shit
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| You can even add a couple grand for my outfit
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| You betta act like ya know man
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| In my hood they call me Jeezy the Snowman
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| Ya get it? |
| Get it? |
| Jeezy the Snowman
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| I’m iced out, plus I got snow, man
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| Let it marinate, y’all niggaz is slow man (slow man)
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| (Mane what the fuck y’all…yo dumb ass)
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| I used to get nineteen for a beat
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| Call me Ginuwine, the same 'ol G ('ol G)
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| I’m the shit biiiaaattch, I need toilet paper (daaaaaayyuum!)
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| And some air freshener nigga, fuck a hata
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| These niggaz don’t like me
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| I’m wit the Gucci Mane and I’m so icy
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| She diggin my fit, she think I’m the shit
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| Is this a chain on my neck, or the watch in my wrist
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| Maybe the ice in my ear, or my bracelet
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| But she look like the type that could take a dick
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| Young Gucci Mane, don’t kiss me baby you can kiss my chain
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| Ya gotta be a dime piece
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| just to look at the rocks in my time piece
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| I come through in a drop top Jag, or Old-School Chevy wit the antique tags
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| My pockets so heavy that I can’t walk steady
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| Niggaz coppin ice we done done it already
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| Got a gold grill but it’s not from Eddie
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| I ride big Chevys cause a nigga ain’t petty
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| I’m icy, so motherfuckin snowed up, lil kids wanna
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| be like Gucci when they grow up Me, Jeezy and Boo
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| We ain’t hatin pussy nigga 'gon and do what you do Cuz we icy, so icy, we icy, so icy
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| I’m hoppin out the range wit the seats piped out
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| You can still see my chain even when the lights out
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| Cuz dat’s how monsters do it Spit a lil game give 'em that flosser music
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| I’m the man from the C.H.I
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| These lames runnin 'round thinkin they so fly
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| Got a lil buzz but Boo been too high
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| I’m pullin hoes in the club and I don’t even try
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| I guess when she glance at my wrist, she wanna get my dick
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| I tell her holla at Jeezy if ya wanna pop Cris
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| Get at Gucci Mane cause he on some lil shit
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| And you know I’m in the cut, grippin my 4/5
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| Like let a nigga trip, naw we ain’t runnin
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| We just takin all ya chicks, buyin drinks gettin blunted
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| Groupies, show you how to do this son
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| We throwin out hundreds while you savin them ones
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| I got so many rocks, on my chain and watch
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| I know I’m the shit, my chain hang down to my dick
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| I know I’m the bomb, just look at my charms
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| I know I’m the shit, my chain hang down to my dick
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| I’m so icy
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| Look at my charms
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| My… chain…hang…down…to my dick |