| Sittin' at the stoplight, looking at hoes
|
| Peeping out this bitch in her black Girbauds
|
| Windows rolled up tight, top was closed
|
| Blowing Swisher Sweet smoke out my nose
|
| Open up the door and asked the bitch, «What's up?»
|
| Lookin' at me crazy, I’m like, «Bitch what’s up?»
|
| She asked about my woman, I said «My woman at home»
|
| I asked about her nigga, she said her nigga was gone
|
| I got my pencil and got the digits and things
|
| And after three or four days, I gave that bitch a ring
|
| We started talking and I dropped some shit
|
| Gave her some game and now I got that bitch
|
| Now she wants to give your homie some ass
|
| But it’s just one question I got to ask
|
| Can you…
|
| One (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| And four of the finest bitches that your ass can find
|
| Can you, one (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| And four of the finest bitches that your ass can find
|
| I called my homie, told my homie «It's on»
|
| Gotta few hoes that wanna moan and groan
|
| They on they way I just hung up the phone
|
| And we gon' be like Marvin Gaye, nigga, gettin' it on
|
| But you gots to keep your head right
|
| And make these bitches feel at home
|
| 'Cause these bitches got they head tight
|
| And furthermore, they bringin' weed
|
| Just kick back, nigga, follow my lead
|
| One (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| And four of the finest hoes that your ass can find
|
| One (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| And four of the finest bitches that your ass can find
|
| Hung up the horn and the hoes arrived
|
| Three tight young tenders, them hoes was live
|
| Rolled herself a woola, told her «Fade me, troop»
|
| Cock bustin' at the seams of her Daisy Dukes
|
| Ass fatter than a motherfuckin' quarter horse
|
| Ready to take one of these bitches to the slaughterhouse
|
| Got my shirt over my dick 'cause it’s hardened to fuck
|
| Hoes eyes getting red, now they wantin' to fuck
|
| It’s about time to put the game in attack
|
| Tapped her, told her bring «ol' what’s her name» in the back
|
| Got 'em in my room, about to hop in the tub
|
| My homie walked in, «Show your partna some love»
|
| Told my homie put it down, we finna act a fool
|
| The ho said, «Cool, hop yo ass in the pool
|
| I wanna polish up your tool»
|
| But it’s just one thing before you do
|
| Can you…
|
| One (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| And four of the fattest Swishers that your ass can find
|
| Can you, one (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| And four of the fattest Swishers that your ass can find
|
| Can you, one (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| And four of the fattest Swishers that your ass can find
|
| Can you, one (Bring your boy a bottle of wine)
|
| Two (Don't forget the papers this time)
|
| Three (Go to Joe’s and pick up a dime)
|
| Act a fool… uh! |