(feat. Sara Stokes)
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[Sara Stokes]
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Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Adjust ya radio
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Boy you got me tripping, boy you got me tripping
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Baby wet my whistle, boy you got me tripping
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You got me heated
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So won't you wet my whistle, boy you drive me crazy
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And I can't get enough
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[Verse 1]
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(It's him) With the B-to the Double O-M
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You can feel the breeze from the Rover, the Benz
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You can hear it over and over again
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As I get closer and closer, then
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Rolling by the pose with the blow and the dro and the blend, with the soldier grin
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Rolling by the sto' with the 4-0, sitting in my lap like Ice Cube way back when
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But we too grown, so we roll by a hoe in the two tone, Maybach Benz
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(He ain't even from the hood) sell it to the streets
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Nigga yelling that to me, you selling that for cheap
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You best stick to walking, unless you'd like to be offed'en
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For less then the price of a coffin
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Nigga where them dollars at' Straighten up your face
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I'm smelling you aroma, you hating up the place
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Before I start K'ing up the place, this is what you fearing
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[Chorus: Sara Stokes + (Royce Da 5'9")]
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Adjust your radio
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Boy you got me tripping (This is what you hearing, Boom)
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Boy you got me tripping (This is what you hearing, Boom)
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Baby wet my whistle (Boom)
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Boy you got me tripping (This is for the trunks with them thangs in 'em, Boom)
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You got me heated (This is for the trunks with them thangs)
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So won't you wet my whistle' (Boom)
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Boy you drive me crazy (This is for the trunks with them thangs in 'em, Boom)
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And I can't get enough
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[Verse 2]
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It's him, with the B-to the Double O-M
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You can feel the breeze from the Rover, the Benz
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You can hear it over and over again
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As I get closer and closer, then
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Sounding like a plane on the landing strip
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Wheels looking like fans on a whip
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Backseat of my Benz lets swing an episode
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Come on, cheat on ya man ma, he don't have to know
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I got a room like the Real World confessional
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Booth, I only allow true professional
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(Can we turn the camera off')
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Uh-uh, that's a no
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(Can I put my shoes on ya seat')
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Uh-uh, that's a no, I bring a light to ya hood with me
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Hop in this car and shine honey if you wanna be looking good with me
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You see that full clip by him, like he that hood rich nigga
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Riding in that BF Goodrich tire
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My status in the streets don't matter
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When the haters come thru like the static in the speakers
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 3]
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Boom, niggaz at the car wash looking (looking) scheming (scheming)
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Tires gleaming (gleaming) ya'll stay mad
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At the wood grain in the parque dash
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Stash in the deck, albums banging (banging)
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Off the fiberglass of the Vette (like Boom)
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While we hanging, doing our thang
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Me and one of my mayne, it's a summertime thang
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[Outro: Sara Stokes]
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Boom...haha...'I-C
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Boy you got me tripping
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Boy you got me heated
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And I can't get enough
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Wet My Whistle
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Royce Da 5'9'' |