| We going to Cuba wit' this one
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| Yea, I been rehabilitated, rejuvicated
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| And most important: relocated
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| So now, with no further to do
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| Now ladies stand up
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| Or if you wit' me shake ya titties
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| Throw your hands up
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| And all the ballers poppin' bottles throw a grand up
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| And if you feeling like I’m feeling keep them hands up
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| And keep ya hands up
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| Hey, from the sunrise to the midnight star
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| I’m by far the hottest new thing the South seen
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| Bringing sixteen bars, got six clean cars
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| Vert’s, Hoops, four doors, do momo’s, and Tahoes
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| Star hoes, yo hoes is our hoes
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| Keri pullin up to the Shark Bar on the Northstar
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| Wit' a Puerto Rican porn star
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| We in La Vida La Loca
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| See you can’t flow like me or rock a show like me
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| Get dough like me
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| Shouldn’t signed 'em, he ain’t gon' blow like me
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| But give me a quarter of his bonus and half his budget
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| And I guarantee he go double but if you don’t, you in trouble
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| It’s gon' take him three coupes just for him to recoup'
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| Or witness shawty flop, like the last three groups
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| While I’m in Cancun' 'round see-thru's on a three week cruise
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| It’ll take more than the likes of these fools to make me lose
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| Sheesh, floppin is something I can’t see
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| Ladies, obey the chorus
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| Shake ya titties for me please
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| Uh, I came to blow the spot
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| Hit the club wit' cheddar knots
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| Ridin wit' a badder bitch
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| You gonna get or ever got
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| Try me boy, you better not
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| Shawty and I’m very hot
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| Toting forty cap, forty five nine’s every Glock
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| Blow you up in that very spot you standing in
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| Then vanishing
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| Undo this manana then, throw away this can and then
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| Back to poppin mo and blow and dro and money handlin'
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| You and your lil' posse can not stop me and this clan I’m in
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| While you slanderin', you better ask ya gul who the man again
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| Turning out a superstar back into a fan again
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| Damagin' all who peek, line 'em all in the street
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| I’ll do 'em one at a time wit' one line on one beat
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| Say ya almost gold, that’s what I sold in one week
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| Got a flock of freaks, while you hold on to one biich
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| I’m like a Pez dispenser, shawty, I spit treats
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| The nigga who even sound good on a bullshit beat
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| Well pussy nigga, you can like it, you can love it
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| You can bite it, you can dub it
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| But you can’t do it how we does it
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| When we ballin' in public
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| Where the grill full of gold or Seville full of hoes
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| Wood wheels and some Voe’s or hun’ed gold spokes
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| I park at the club and a hun’ed hoes choke
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| Spark up some dubs, let them hun’ed hoes blow
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| I run game to get the hoe once they act like I can’t run it no mo'
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| I stunt them hoes broke and her money po' po'
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| You can’t smoke the way we smoke if you ain’t smokin' no dro'
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| Drink the way we drink wit no Hen' and no Mo'
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| You can’t ride the way we ride if you ain’t slammin Benz do’s
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| Can’t ball wit' me if you got eight but can only spend fo'
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| You ain’t VIP like me and can’t be searching your coat
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| Ain’t no P.I. |
| like me if you ain’t workin' no hoes
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| Can’t do the shit we do, the way we do wit' no dough
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| That’s like trying to win a ballgame, if you ain’t takin no score |