| And every summer buy the newest drop
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| Popping bottles, taking super models to the block
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| If it ain’t fat, put two up in the back
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| Alligator strapped, why you do it like that?
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| Pour so many bottles I’mma need another section
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| Blowers on the shoes, but the feet was P.M.S.ing
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| Bad rap bone, valentino clutches
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| V-12 automatic Lamborghini clutches
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| Party all night and we duck the morning
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| It’s vampire life, nigga, fuck the morning
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| Leaving out the club, jump in the foreign
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| Then we valet the car leaving with the tourin'
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| Got whip all clean and top off too
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| Tell me what the fuck am I supposed to do?
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| Got shorty in the club and her girlfriends too
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| Tell me what the fuck am I supposed to do?
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| Green light go, green light go
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| Green light go, green light go, green light go
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| I got all this money and nothing to do
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| Tell me what the fuck am I supposed to do?
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| We ain’t worried about no petty threats
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| Big jewelry on nigga making heavy bets
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| We got the bank stop and whatevers left
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| I hit esage back, but he never left
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| One thing about beef, man, it never rests
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| Catch you in the street and put your head to rest
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| Matter fact it’s double R’s in my head rest
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| Get money, BIG said it best
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| Snatchin (?) put the (?) on her
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| Blow her brains out like I put the fifth on her
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| Should be a crime the way I catch them bodies
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| Now I take her down for a sexy hottie
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| We got loomy in the club with his fake ass crew
|
| Damn, tell me what the fuck am I supposed to do
|
| Green light go, green light go
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| Green light go, green light go
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| From millionaires, fellas too
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| I’m on like the Cardier Bell on Blu
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| Listen clear what Im tellin' you
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| I make the roof disappear when I’m bailin' through
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| Two shots, that’s a bad attempt
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| Circle around your block paper tag tents
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| Spend a couple hundred when I had to vent
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| Dealer didn’t have it then I had to sin
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| Chanel bags cost six large
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| Pretty women hopping outta big cars
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| 500 horses with the Ferrari sounds
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| And I solemnly swear I will never tell |