| My pocket all swoll', my rims all chrome
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| When I hit the club everything goes
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| Bottles in the air, put your lighters in the air
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| But when I’m in here, I don’t really care
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| 'Cause I ride on 'em, plus, I style on 'em
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| Yes, I lean on 'em, yes, I flash on 'em
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| Yeah, I know, that’s the way you like it, huh?
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| Yeah, that’s the way you love me, hon'
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| It’s alive, it’s alive, rounds cured the eyes
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| I had to bring the bitch back like Frankenstein
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| I push weight but Gucci don’t exercise
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| I get extra whipped cream for them eskimo pies
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| I’m in the 'hood like the mayor 'round election time
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| Here’s a suggestion: don’t park your car next to mine
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| I’mma start when the light hit, I 'posed to shine
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| Your flow is garbage, they let me out just in time
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| They got a section but none of the ho’s are fine
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| They need to exit, don’t let the grind pass you by
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| I run laps 'round lames with my shoes untied
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| I jump the line, walk in, and watch the crowd divide
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| Still stuck outside, that’s the ugly side
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| Looked Medusa in the eye and Medusa died
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| This is top secret shit, classified
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| Don’t blame me, Swizz was the mastermind
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| I can’t breathe, can’t breathe, Toni Braxton time
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| I got a chain moonwalkin', Michael Jackson time
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| I keep on buying ice like I lost my mind
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| This bloodline of mine is supposed to shine
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| My pocket all swoll', my rims all chrome
|
| When I hit the club everything goes
|
| Bottles in the air, put your lighters in the air
|
| But when I’m in here, I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause I ride on 'em, plus, I style on 'em
|
| Yes, I lean on 'em, yes, I flash on 'em
|
| Yeah, I know, that’s the way you like it, huh?
|
| Yeah, that’s the way you love me, hon'
|
| Hurry up, hurry up Gucci on the news
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| They say he walked out the jail rockin' stupid jewels
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| They tryin' to find out what it do, admit it, you confused
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| Too much cash on me, hundreds fallin' out my trous'
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| My yellow wrist, bright as piss, bitch, on the shit
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| Big Gucci called Swizz, let’s make a hit
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| Two thing in this world I ain’t ever seen
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| Are you a foreigner, nigga? |
| I need to help me get mimi
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| I hope you suffocate, me told her, baby, let me breathe
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| 'Cause I don’t chase nothin' but paper, bitch, you’re chasin' me
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| Excuse my French, but this is Gucci, I’m so fucking gutter
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| It don’t make no sense to switch for any of these motherfuckers
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| My pocket all swoll', my rims all chrome
|
| When I hit the club everything goes
|
| Bottles in the air, put your lighters in the air
|
| But when I’m in here, I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause I ride on 'em, plus, I style on 'em
|
| Yes, I lean on 'em, yes, I flash on 'em
|
| Yeah, I know, that’s the way you like it, huh?
|
| Yeah, that’s the way you love me, hon'
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| Somebody said my life is it
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| I said nah dog, my wife is it
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| Now I’m back, back on 'em like I never, never left
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| Plus the boy right here, I’m fresh to death
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| Woo, Christians on my feet
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| See, I can’t fall for Suzuki jeeps
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| Now I’m jumpin' off decks
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| Don’t worry about the haters, they gonna be upset
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| And the Black Card in my back pocket
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| The Conaseg lookin' like a speeder rocket
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| Yeah, I’m zoomin' on the highway
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| And you should love me, I did it my way
|
| My pocket all swoll', my rims all chrome
|
| When I hit the club everything goes
|
| Bottles in the air, put your lighters in the air
|
| But when I’m in here, I don’t really care
|
| 'Cause I ride on 'em, plus, I style on 'em
|
| Yes, I lean on 'em, yes, I flash on 'em
|
| Yeah, I know, that’s the way you like it, huh?
|
| Yeah, that’s the way you love me, hon' |