| I wanna be free, I wanna just live
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| Inside my Cadillac, that is my shit
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| Now throw it up (now throw that up)
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| That’s what it is (that's what it is)
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| In my C A D I L L A C bitch (biatch)
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| Can’t see me through my tints (nuh uh)
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| I’m riding real slow (slow motion)
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| In my paint wet dripping shining like my 24s (umbrella)
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| I ain’t got 24s (nuh uh)
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| But I’m on those Vogues
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| That’s those big white walls
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| R-r-round them hundred spokes
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| Old school like Olde English in that brown paper bag
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| I’m rolling in that same whip that my granddad had
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| Hello, haters, damn y’all mad
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| 30k on the Caddy, now how backpack rap is that?
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| I got that off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
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| Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
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| I’m rollin' that roof off, letting in sky
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| I shine, the city never looked so bright
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| Man I’m lounging in some shit Bernie Mac would’ve been proud of
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| Looking down from heaven like damn that’s stylish
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| Smilin', don’t pay attention to the mileage
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| Can I hit the freeway? |
| Illegally going a hundred and twenty
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| Easy weaving in and out of the traffic
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| They cannot catch me, I’m smashing
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| I’m ducking bucking them out here
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| I’m looking fucking fantastic, I am up in a classic
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| Now I know what it’s like under the city lights
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| Riding into the night, driving over the bridge
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| The same one we walked across as kids
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| Knew I’d have a whip but never one like this
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| Old school, old school, Candy paint, two seater
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| Yea, I’m from Seattle, there’s hella Honda Civics
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| I couldn’t tell you about paint either
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| But I really wanted a Caddy so I put in the hours
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| And roll on over to the dealer
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| And I found the car I dreamed of, there’s a problem with this geezer
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| Got the keys in and as I was leaving I started screaming
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| I got that off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
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| Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
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| I’m rollin' that roof off, letting in sky
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| I shine, the city never looked so bright
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| Backwoods and dope
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| White hoes in the backseat snorting coke
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| She doing line after line like she’s writing rhymes
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| I had her inhaling my love, tryna blow my mind
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| Cadillac pimpin', my uncle was on
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| 14 I stole his keys
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| Me and my niggas was gone
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| Stealin' portions of his liquor, water in his Patron
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| Drivin' smiling like I won a fucking lottery homes (fuckin' lottery homes)
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| Tires with the spokes on it and the Vogues, too
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| Mustard and mayonnaise, keeping the buns
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| All on my dogs hanging out the window
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| Young as whoosh, fucking like we ball
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| Tryna fuck 'em all, kill the fucking whips
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| See what’s poppin' at the mall, meet a bad bitch
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| Slap her booty with my balls
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| You can smoke the pussy, I was tearing down the walls
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| I’m motherfuckin' awe… some
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| Swear these sights tryna hypnotize
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| Grip the leather steering wheel while I grip the thighs
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| See the lust stuck up in her eyes
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| Maybe she like the ride or did she like the smoke?
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| Or does she want it low?
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| 'Cause this shit a Coupe de Ville so you’ll never know
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| So we cruise for minutes, my nigga, fuck the limit
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| Got a window tinted for showing gangsta in it
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| Slide 'til the gas is finished, Q
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| Off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
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| Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
|
| I’m rollin' that roof off, letting in sky
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| I shine, the city never looked so bright
|
| Got that off-black Cadillac, midnight drive
|
| Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time
|
| I’m rollin' that roof off, letting in sky
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| I shine, the city never looked so bright |