| Let’s make a beautiful song tonight
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| Arriba, arriba
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| Okay here it goes man
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| Woah, I’m tryna go
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| I’m here to stay, I’m in control
|
| Fresh out the kitchen, hot off the stove
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| And I never will sell my soul
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| I got friends, I got friends
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| Come hop in, go shopping
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| Niggas stealing swag I had to call him out
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| My homie texting new collections so I bought 'em out
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| I’m in the A, you go to jail about a quarter ounce
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| Back in the bay where I belong, I’m blowing bigger clouds
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| Can’t trust a thot on Instagram 'cause they be wishy washy
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| They tryna take me off the court, they wanna Chris Bosh me
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| I need a presidential Rollie, need a Maserati
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| Riding through the town, eyes open for the cop-ies
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| Ooh, where you get your chain boy, the swap meet
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| Ooh, set my GPS to the top please
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| Su in that new Ferrari, they Lawry’s
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| Ooh, that mean salty
|
| Ooh, back up off me
|
| Woah, I’m tryna go
|
| I’m here to stay, I’m in control
|
| Fresh out the kitchen, hot off the stove
|
| And I never will sell my soul
|
| I got friends, I got friends
|
| Come hop in, go shopping
|
| If you could see what’s on my watch you’d say it’s diamond time
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| She’s got friends, she’s got friends
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| We fill up the Sprinter beds
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| And get lost in my bed
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| And now we like woah, I’m tryna go
|
| And they don’t wanna see me grow
|
| But if you love me, let me go
|
| Woah, I’m tryna go
|
| I’m here to stay, I’m in control
|
| Fresh out the kitchen, hot off the stove
|
| And I never will sell my soul
|
| I got friends, I got friends
|
| Come hop in, go shopping |