Lyrics Chevy Smile - Yung Joc, Trick Daddy, Block

Chevy Smile

Pull out the Chevrolets nigga
(Well if they gon' put 'em out, what year they need to pull out Trick?)
Pull out the 71's, 72's & seven-treys nigga
(Haha, well tell 'em who ya is shawty)
The Don Dada, the dump riders, yours truly (that right) Trick Daddy Dollars~!
(See what did, I said, I’ma go get a real nigga who know 'bout muh’fuckin Chevy)
(Inside and out from the motherfuckin digi-dash, to the motherfuckin pipes)
You better believe it (hehe, you know who it is)
(Trick Daddy, Yung Joc, let’s go)
+ (Trick Daddy)
I like the way (I like the way) the grill on my Chevrolet smile
I like the way (I like the way) the rims on my Chevy go round
I like the way (I like the way) the top on my Chevy go down
I like the way (I like the way) the Chevy make the girls go wild
6−4 Chevrolet, S-S-M
Twenty-fo' of suntan, thatat fresh pimp
You think I’m ridin peanut butter, naw that’s chocolate chip
I love the way the paint drip, love the way the paint flip
Head got the antique step, fishbowl lamp
Fo'-fifteen beatin with the two stolen amps
Move away with the butterfly, do’s on suicide
Five percent tint keep them hoes guessin who inside
Now the neighbors mad cause my feet down low
Now the haters mad cause they freaks down low
Yeah the color scheme match these new Gucci loafers
Plastic on the seats like my grandmama sofa
I got the work to match the hard top, fresh out of supermart
And e’rywhere I go they follow the car show
Yo, I hit a right, they hit a right
I hit the gas and leave they ass 'bout fo' or five lights
Gettin followed by these bougie broads, because they like the car
They dig my swag, too bad bitch, this ain’t for y’all
This for them 'bout it bitches, all about the dollar bitches
Independent, but love fuckin with real niggas
This for my thug niggas, gettin rich drug dealin
My trap stars with big walls and fast cars
Dunk ridin, trunk poundin, glass-housin
Now that’s some real down South shit
Got the grill on my Chevy like TV juggins
Smile so bright, you can see me comin
Say you wanna race, playboy we can run it
Say you got a Hemi, my Chevy’ll out run it
I hope you got navigation cause pimpin you lost
Police thank you smokin good, that’s just my exhaust
Betta get some antifreeze and let you shit cool off
Minks on my flo' bitch, take your shoes off
Treat my Chevy like a 'llac, dont slam my do’s
I’m ridin like a mack, backseat full of hoes
I got a kush pack, we gon' blow this whole O
Matter fact, let your seat back and ride out slow
Come chill with me if you wanna see what I’m ridin on
(Ay Jazze look what I’m ridin on playboy)
I might even take you home (y'all know who I be man)
I might even take you home (it's your boy Big Block man)
(The Eastside Chevy rider)
In my Chevy
(What'chu ridin on?) Dubs
(What'chu ridin on?) Dueces
(What'chu ridin on?) Tres
(What'chu ridin on?) Fo’s
(What'chu ridin on?) Sixes
(What'chu ridin on?) Eights
(What'chu ridin on?) 30's
(What'chu ridin on?) That’s the way I stay
(What'chu ridin on?) Dubs
(What'chu ridin on?) Dueces
(What'chu ridin on?) Tres
(What'chu ridin on?) Fo’s
(What'chu ridin on?) Sixes
(What'chu ridin on?) Eights
(What'chu ridin on?) You can call me a Chevyweight!