| A group on yesterday jeans today,
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| I gotta' rocket in my pocket and I just got paid
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| Sixty-nine Chevrolet parked on the lawn,
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| It’s primer grey, and the engine’s gone
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| So I strut like a pimp, to the bus station
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| I ain’t got a job and need a vacation
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| I keep my ass squeaky clean like nutrigine
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| In my used secret shoes and new limousine
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| And if you give me all yo' money, you can be my number one, honey
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| Rockin' in the locker room at Marta coupa snake,
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| Takin' pictures of my dick while my bitches sit and wait,
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| Don’t hate on the Ave, 'cause I treat my ladies bad,
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| I’m crazy in the face, and maybe I’m a fag
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| There’s a party, (five dollars)
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| In my pants, (at the door)
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| In my pants, (ten dollars)
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| In my pants, (at the door)
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| And if you gimme' all yo' money,
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| You can be my number one, honey
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| There’s a party in my pants,
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| (Be, be, be my number one, honey)
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| There’s party in my pants and you’re all on the list,
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| The doorman’s big, and black, and he’s pissed,
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| So don’t bring no dudes, and hide yo' loods,
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| And slip me a Mickey for the pain in my kidneys
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| (Five dollars)
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| (At the door)
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| (Ten dollars)
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| (At the door)
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| (Fifteen dollars)
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| (At the door)
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| (Twenty dollars)
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| (A little more) |