| Easy, that cush shit got me sleepy
|
| Rollin down 85, leaning but I ain’t weaving
|
| Man you, should stay a day in the A
|
| A parade of them chevelots, the colors of flavor aid
|
| Can you, believe I got it made
|
| Impala in the garage, got Forces and all the J’s
|
| I’m leaning back, ride shotgun in the Chevy with the homeboy burning sacs
|
| We heading to the spot where we get down, nigga where the bitches at
|
| If they talking right, acting right, walking right
|
| Down to take flight, they ain’t gotta go home, they can stay the night
|
| You don’t have to go home
|
| You can stay right here, put one in the air
|
| While we’re bending corners on my chrome
|
| Same shit another year, in the southern hemisphere
|
| Wait a while, you don’t have to go.
|
| Nigga hold up, hold up
|
| Make sure they see you when you roll
|
| Hop out that truck all ready fucked up
|
| Toe up from the motherfucking blow up
|
| From the floor up, to the ceiling
|
| Smoke kiss in the walls in the top of the building
|
| Lile momma’s on e, sitting next to me
|
| She’s catching a feeling
|
| And I’m feeling, like I’m 'pose to
|
| I’m as fly as a Jordan poster
|
| I’m leaning and breathe smelling like hen and a mix of hydroponic
|
| By the the time my click find me in VIP I’m lost in a cloud of chronic
|
| Had sex with the best, got head from the rest
|
| Motherfucker believe I done it
|
| Hot Tub Tony, sucka free and still bubblin
|
| Truck still rattling and bumping now move something
|
| Hold up Big Boi! |
| I’m still weed crumpling
|
| The sac keeps shaking and block keep jumping
|
| Lay back, lay back, treat this eight six cut like a Maybach
|
| Hey show these suckas that after 50 million sold
|
| Daddy Fat Sacs still where the hood at, hood at
|
| Hood rats and decoy b-boys understood that
|
| Whether its creme de la creme, where the good at
|
| I got it in that 1.5, I had to put the swisha down cause my lugs got tired
|
| Now lets ride, lets ride
|
| Back down 85, five
|
| With the click in the truck, full of chicks in the back of the 6
|
| Nobody going home tonight
|
| You don’t have to go home
|
| Straighten up your hair, you don’t need a mirror
|
| You can fix your makeup in my chrome
|
| Same shit another year, in the southern hemisphere
|
| Wait a while, before you don’t have to go.
|
| Ahh! |
| It feels like ecstasy
|
| The sound, whoa! |
| feels like ecstasy
|
| Oooh. |
| oohh! |
| feels like ecstasy (feels like ecstasy!)
|
| The groove, takes control of me |