Lyrics Jump Out The Coupe! - Soulja Boy

Jump Out The Coupe!

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, nigga whippin' up dope
And don’t play with my gang, ain’t no playin' with Dre
Drop, wop, I’m having juice and some killers and niggas that’s ready to shoot
Ha, jumped out the coupe, look at my shoes
Pour up a deuce, yeah
I’m pourin' this out when we shootin' at you
Red Lambo, nigga, when I skrrt through
Red gelato, I’m trappin'
Money Gang, westside, nigga, I get to clappin'
Whack me a opp, he was gangster, nigga, what happened?
I take that brick and wrap it in a napkin
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m back again
Send your location, I’m ready to spin
I’m losing my voice, but I’m still going in
I was jumpin' the top out the Maybach 2020 Benz
If her boyfriend from D, trade Cartier lens
In with AK, Apple TV on film
Versace, they copy and that’s be him
Jump out the Gotti, new Maserati
Life of the party, hey, hey
Everyday, I’m trending topic, trap in the Martian
You know I be poppin', hey, hey
On feet, Yeezy, make it look easy
Diamonds be freezin', hey
Ran lot of M’s up, they didn’t believe me
Ran out on man when I’m passin', it’s easy
Big Draco the goat and I know they not and they see why
Just did an album and on it is T. I
Christian and Louis, I don’t wear no Levi’s
A Lamborghini drop top two-seater
Choppa clap, make him Macarena
That choppa gon' sing like, «Señorita»
Straight drop, Wockhardt, I don’t pocket tequila
Jump out the coupe, jump out the jump
Jump out the damn, I got them stamps
That’s a big body Lamb'
Open fire showers, they lookin' like, «Damn»
Draco ham, I’m fresh out the can
Keep dissin' on me and I’m murkin' your man
Got the passport stamps, I done went to Japan
And I’m spinnin' opp block just like ceiling fan
We gon' slide, blah-blah, black doors on minivans
Leave me my nigga, but I ain’t never rock no Vans
I beat that pot like Peter Pan
Shots, shots, they lookin' at me like, «Damn»
See no motorcycle, this a three-wheel Can-Am
I’ma run to that money like gingerbread man
Nigga, catch me if you can
Those Perc 30's 'bout to be in my hand
This ZaZa exotic came with the gram