| Q Rich
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| Ice on my wrists and I ball like Q Rich
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| Ice on my wrists and I ball like Q Rich
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| Smoking in the club, have a nicotine fit
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| Ice on my hand and I shoulda won a Grammy
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| Step inside the club and I’m smelling like Miami
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| In the kitchen cooking cookies, but I’m not yo damn granny
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| Now they wanna copy because I’m wetter than tsunami
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| Now they wanna copy because I’m wetter than tsunami
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| Kitchen cooking cookies, but I’m not yo damn granny
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| Step inside the club and I’m smelling like Miami
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| Ice on my hands, should have won a damn Grammy
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| I made a lane, lane made of gold
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| I can shoot a BB through a frosted Cheerio
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| From fifty yards away, I can ride blades
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| I can make it rain even on a sunny day
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| At the Days Inn, still play to win
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| I can buy a Benz even if I ride a Schwinn
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| Twenty inch rims, man that shit’s too small
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| Met this bitch at the mall, ass like two volleyballs
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| Supersize the chain, like it was McDonald’s
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| Ice a whole frame, snowman, abominable
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| Laughing at the bank, man that shit is comical
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| 50 inch Byzantine, damn near froze my abdominal
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| Who me? |
| You know who I are
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| Might crash my car then buy the whole bar
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| Yea we can talk, don’t be a stranger
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| Step inside the club and I smell like Power Ranger
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| Oriental wrists, with the rocks on my finger
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| Ice in my ear, looks like a baby penguin
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| Circle make a square fool, on August 5th
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| Banana bird fists looks like panda piss
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| Should I rock the braids, permed out fur
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| Walking 'round town, rock twenty K below
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| Hyper color chain with the similac flow
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| Rocking all this snow, might freeze a rainbow |