| Drinking' up my friends me and Funke Trend
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| Check the scenery but I’ll be stepping on the scene
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| All the queens get de-fiending me
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| They be fiending me when I’m leaning in my route
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| When I get the Jefferson and I’m busting at you
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| And I’m rolling down the other side
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| On my eyes is the Locs freaks all around
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| They' be trying to be down because I’m Skee-Lo yo
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| It’s all good though I’m exbo I’m coasting
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| Gangster’s hitting switches breaking corners three wheel motions
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| And I’m hoping to pull a fly honey looking cute
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| Spittin' game what’s your name?
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| You look cute in your daisy dukes
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| Who me I’m Skee, I rap and produce
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| Pull over I wanna know you and my crew wants to know your crew
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| Now how them cheeks fit in the seat of that Jeep
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| See this is type of freak that could be cool for me
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| I like her style she like my style
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| I make her smile she think I’m funny
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| Won’t front it be pump rolling Crenshaw on Sunday
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| Crenshaw on Sunday night
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| Slowing down to forty five
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| Crenshaw on Sunday night
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| Slowing down to forty five
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| It’s only cracking on Sunday nights fools don’t be out jacking
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| They be out macking looking for action and satisfaction
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| And I’ll be asking these freaks for they AT&T well how you doing?
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| You looking nice hey my name is Funke
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| Yo your show is swollen around your corner
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| You trap and you be in freaks got more cheeks than Gary Coleman
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| So what’s your name?
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| (My name is Brenda my friends call me Brend)
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| That’s Skee-Lo and Trend yo call your friends and hop on in
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| Let’s take a spin bust a mission of exposition you dippin' and trippin'
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| And now they got the taste of some chicken and waffles
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| A daily special for Funke
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| Now since everybody hungry yo I’m busting a road to Roscoe’s
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| Stand with women that stack with Toni Brax
|
| Brothers left they straps and gats at the pack
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| The just asking for some Jimmy hats so they can tax
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| But I’ma max and relax and enjoy my bomb day
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| Crenshaw on Sundays
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| Crenshaw on Sunday night
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| Slowing down to forty five
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| Crenshaw on Sunday night
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| Slowing down to forty five
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| Bumper to bumper people fronting Crenshaw fun
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| And do flossing on slossing cars parking music bumping
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| Nobody dumping nobody starting nothing
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| We just kicking it and getting digits on one time be giving tickets
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| But I’m straight with up to date tags on my plates
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| The boulevard is hot from spot to spot watch your block
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| All the homies be coming from Long Beach, Compton and Wash
|
| This song is props and all the cops can do is watch
|
| It’s two 'o' clock am and we still at the parking lot
|
| Covering freaks with the camera it’s like the freak net in the Atlanta
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| Georgia, with more hoes than Santa told ya
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| West Coast will be having more hoochies for ya I wanna know ya
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| That’s the type of game that I’m spitting
|
| Rollin up and down the strip steady dipping is how I’m living
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| Ain’t no fun if the homies can’t come
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| Show ya ride we all packed in the bag at the Shaw on Sunday night
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| Crenshaw on Sunday night
|
| Slowing down to forty five
|
| Crenshaw on Sunday night
|
| Slowing down to forty five
|
| Crenshaw on Sunday night
|
| Slowing down to forty five
|
| Crenshaw on Sunday night
|
| Slowing down to forty five
|
| Crenshaw on Sunday night
|
| Slowing down to forty five |